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FOOTLIGHT  FLASHES. 


WILLIAM  ^AVIDGE,  Comediat^, 

AUTHOR   OF  "the  FAMILY   PARTY,"  (a  COMEDY.)    "THE   DRAMA   DE- 
FENDED," ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW- YORK : 

tup:;    AMERICAlSr    NETVS    COMiF^^lSrY, 

119  AND  121   Nassau  Street. 

1  866. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  186d.  by 

WILLIAJr    DAVIDGK, 

In  tli^  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Pouthern  District  of  New  York. 


PN 


T 


CM 


"  The  Drama  is  the  most  perfect  imitation  of  human  lii'e  ;  by 
means  of  the  stage  it  represents  man  in  all  his  varieties  of  mind, 
his  expressions  of  manner,  and  his  power  of  action ;  and  is, the  first 
of  moralities,  because  it  teaches  us  in  the  most  impressive  way  the 
knowledge  of  ourselves." — Ilazlit. 


TO 

EDWm  FORREST,  Esq., 


THIS    BOOK 


BY     HIS    SINCERE    PE0FE33I0NAL    ADMIBEE, 

WILLIAM  DAVTDGE. 


Beookltn,  N.  Y- 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


rage. 

THE    CALL   BOY,    .... 

.     140 

THE   MOON   BOX,         .... 

148 

THE    FLATS, 

.     149 

THE    BRACE, 

150 

THE    TRAVELLER, 

.     151 

THE    PROPERTY   ROOM, 

157 

THE    GAS   DIAL,    .... 

.     159 

THE   TRAP — OPEN,     .... 

159 

THE   TRAP — CLOSED,      . 

.     160 

CURTAIN   WINDLASS, 

160 

THUNDER    DRUM, 

.     161 

RAIN   BOX,        

161 

PAINT   ROOM   AND   FRAME,    . 

.     165 

BALLET   AT   REHEARSAL,  . 

177 

WARDROBE   ROOM, 

.     190 

CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

An  Autobiography  and  its  Consequences. — The  Life  of  an  Actor. — 
Its  Dreary  Beginning  and  Difficult  Progression. — Stage  Struck  Ladies 
and  Gentlemen. — A  Virulent  Attack. — The  late  Mr.  J.  P.  Harley  on  Nov- 
ices. 1 

CHAPTER  n. 

I  am  Born. — My  Father  and  Mother. — Music. — Efiforts  at  the  Shrine 
of  Apollo. — Physic  as  an  Alterative.  7 

CHAPTER  IIL 

Adieu  to  London. — On  the  Road. — Inquisitive  Natives. — The  bar  at 
the  Inn. — The  Landlord  and  his  Wife. — Brighton. — Interview  with  the 
Manager. — The  Inn  amongst  the  Elms. — Its  Customers  and  Cattle.      10 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Countrymen  and  the  Waiting  Maid. — Story  of  Jacob  Millet.      18 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Beauty  at  the  Inn. — The  Country  Manager. — My  Ardor  Check- 
ed.— The  Play  in  the  Malt  House. — Richard  and  Richmond. — Combat  and 
Comic  result. — The  gouty  Manager. — His  susceptible  Nature.  24 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Dramatic  Aspirants. — The  Oracle  of  the  Village.  35 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Tom^Berry. — Dilemma  in  Blank  Verse. — Managerial  Wives. — The 
Phenomenon. — AshforJ. — The  Town  Hall. — Douglas  and  Popping  the 
Question — Edmund  Kean's  Battle  Field  Hat. — Appearance  in  London. — 
Sheffield. — Mr.  &  Mrs.  Wood,  the  Vocalists. — Attempt  at  Opera. — Nor- 
wich Circuit. — Marriage. — Manchester. — Edinboro. — Dublin. —  Robson 
the  Comedian. — Prejudice  of  Caste  !  45 

CHAPTER  Vm. 

Smythson  the  Dramatic  Agent. — Funerals  of  Mrs.  Siddons  and  Ed- 
mund Kean. — First  impression  of  Edmund  Kean. — First  Night  of  a 
New  Play  in  London.  58 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Benefit  Making. — Burton  and  his  Napoleon  Patron. — Stage  Door- 
Keeper.  70 

CHAPTER  X. 

Lecture  on  Charles  Dickens. — Fanny  Kemble  and  Negro  Minstrelsy. 

79 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Parson  and  the  Player.  90 

CH.APTER  XIL 

The  Drunken  Actor. — Oxberry. — An  Actor's  last  Will  and  Testament — 
Stealing  anothers  Thunder. — Windsor  Castle. — Court  Theatricals. — Lon- 
don.— G.  V.  Brooke  and  Lysander  Thompson.  99 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  Xin. 


On  the  Ocean. — The  Passengers. — The  Virginian  Politician. — Henry 
Clay. — Halifax  and  the  Dog  Trader.  155 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Broadway  Theatre. — The  Star  system. — Mr.  Wallack's  Plau. — Ne- 
gro Minstrelsy. — Candidates  for  Dramatic  Fame.  115 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Behind  the  Scenes. — The  Call  Boy. — The  Dressing  Rooms.— Music 
Room. — The  New  Play. — Stage  at  Rehearsals. — Parlor  Theatricals. — 
Colored  fires. — The  Manager's  OflBlce. — The  Paint  Room. — Property 
Man. — Mr.  Battledore's  favorite  Story. — Classification  of  Actors. — 
Playing  policy. — Managerial  Diplomacy. — The  Ballet. — The  Ballet  Mas- 
ter.— Salary  day. — Rules  to  enforce  Attention. — The  Soubrette. — Dra- 
matic Mothers. — The  Wardrobe. — The  Old  Actor. — The  Needy  Actor. — 
End  of  the  Season. — Adieus  to  the  public. — Congratulations  and 
Supper.  132 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

"Westward. — Toledo. — Projected  Immolation. — Salisbury  at  Chica- 
go.— The  Light  Comedian. — A  very  long  Song.  199 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Science  of  Ticket  Speculation. — The  Walking  Gentleman. — The 
Dramatic  Washington.  214 

CHAPTER  XVIU. 

Mose  in  Canada. — The  Tragedian. — The  Job  Actor. — Palmy  days  of 
the  Drama.  227 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Lotteries. — Lucky  Number. — Defeat  of  the  Americans  at  the 
Mimic  Battle  of  Monterey. — The  Western  Enthusiast. — A  convivial  Au- 
dience. 246 


XU  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Loyal  Marine. — Reading  a  part  on  the  Stage. — Barney  Williams 
and  the  Indignant  Patlander.  258 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Duties  of  an  Actor. — Theatre  Preaching. — AUeyne's  Charity. — 
Motive  for  this  act. — Conclusion.  264 


FOOTLIGHT  FLASHES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  web  of  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn,  good  and  ill  together. 

—Airs  Well  that  Ends  Well.     Act  i.  Scene  8. 

If  there  be  anything  more  detestable  than  writing  one's 
Autobiography,  the  individual  who  now  essays  the  task, 
would  be  glad  to  know  what  it  is.  This  assertion  is  made 
fearlessly,  and  without  dread  of  contradiction;  but,  if 
one  of  ray  captious  readers  should  consider  me  unworthy 
of  credit,  let  him,  or  her,  try  the  experiment,  and  allow 
me  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  document. 

Everybody  has  doubtless  heard  the  story  of  the  man 
who  was  suffering  from  a  bad  cold  in  his  head,  j^rotesting 
to  his  friend  that  "  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  so  bad 
as  a  cold  in  the  head !  "  The  friend  protested  that  he  was 
in  error,  and  named  as  a  greater  affliction,  '■'■tico  colds  in 
the  headr  The  same  may  be  said  of  an  Autobiography. 
Nothing  can  be  so  bad  as  owe,  excei^t  the  perpetration  of 
txoo. 

The  life  of  an  actor  presents  to  the  youthful  and  super- 
ficial observer,  charms  of  no  ordinary  degree  of  interest; 
for  there  is  no  profession  that  holds  so  mixch  sway,  or 
takes  such  firm  possession  of  the  youthful  mind,  as  that 
of  acting.  Well  do  I  remember  loitering  when  a  boy,  for 
hours  together  at  the  stage  doors  of  Covent  Garden  and 
Drury  Lane  Theatres,  to  watch  the  actors  arrive  at,  or 
depart  from,  those  temples  of  the  drama.    Little  did  I 


2  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

then  imagine  that,  in  after  life  I  should  be  on  terms  of 
professional  fellowship  with  many  of  those  I  regarded  (in 
my  simplicity)  as  something  more  than  mortal. 

From  the  dreary  and  unpleasant  prospect  that  has  been, 
and  still  is,  held  out  by  some  historians  to  aspirants  for 
theatrical  honors,  and  from  the  many  hardships,  and 
unpleasantries  attending  the  pursuit  of  an  occupation 
which  in  the  end  leads  merely  to  an  uncertain  glory,  it 
has  proved  a  source  of  wonder  in  many  reflective  minds, 
that  so  great  a  number  have  been  found  bold  enough  to 
venture  upon  the  culture  of  an  art  so  fraught  v>'ith  disa- 
greeables ;  an  art  in  which  so  few  of  the  great  mass  of 
actors  ever  render  themselves  decidedly  eminent.  And 
yet  the  number  of  youthful  candidates  who  so  incessantly 
stand  forward  to  brave  every  danger  attending  a  theatri- 
cal career,  is  immense.  That  an  actor's  life  is  one  of  great 
anxiety,  cannot  reasonably  be  doubted  or  disputed,  when 
it  is  seen  how  quickly  public  taste  and  opinion  veers.  An 
actor  for  a  time  becomes  the  very  idol  of  the  public;  he 
is  flattered  on  all  sides.  His  praise  is  resounded  to  almost 
every  corner  of  the  country,  and  his  performances  attended 
by  all  the  beauty  and  fashion  a  gay  metropolis  can  boast. 
But  this  lasts  no  longer  than  w"hile  his  excellences  are 
new,  and  possess  the  charm  of  novelty.  When  that  is 
past,  and  public  curiosity  is  gratified,  we  find  him,  (save 
in  the  rarest  of  instances),  sink  into  cold  and  silent  neg- 
lect. 

Peculiar  circumstances  tend  to  give  zest  to  theatrical 
anecdote,  and  as  admiration  naturally  stimulates  curiosity, 
the  history  of  those  to  whom  the  mirth,  or  sensibility  of 
so  many  pleasant  evenings  are  due,  must  interest  and 
gratify.  The  heroes  and  heroines  of  the  buskin  in  their 
real^  as  well  as  assumed  characters,  experience  that  vicissi- 
tude and  adventure  to  which  the  unvaried  tenor  of  me- 
chanical industry  is  an  entire  stranger.     Their  life  teems 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  3 

with  incident  which  ahnost  seems  destined  to  realize  the 
fictions  they  represent.  The  early  period  of  their  pro- 
fessional career  is  therefore  generally  clouded  with  diffi- 
culties unknown,  even  in  imagination,  to  those  whose 
pui'suits  have  a  different  proclivity. 

"  The  stage  'tis  said,  by  right  should  be  a  school 
To  shame  the  guilty,  and  amend  the  fool." 

So  writes  some  one  whose  name  "  lives  not  in  my  memo- 
ry," but  the  poet  is  grievously  in  error,  if  his  couplet  alludes 
to  the  votaries  of  that  enchanting  of  all  professions,  "  the 
stage."  For  no  sooner  does  some  ambitious  youth,  who 
is  j^erhaps  partially  initiated  in  the  art  and  mystery  of 
spouting,  and  may  have,  at  sundry  times,  and  in  divers 
places,  been  allowed  to  deliver  certain  portions  of  the 
inspired  language  of  the  '■'•bard  of  Avon  ^"^  determine  (from 
the  ill-judging  applause  of  his  own  companions  perhaps) 
to  adopt  theatricals  as  his  future  profession,  than  he 
plunges  headlong  into  folly.  How  far  a  dramatic  per- 
formance may  be  allowed  to  arouse  the  dormant  feelings 
of  benevolence,  justice,  penitence,  or  mercy,  in  the  minds 
of  an  audience,  I  leave  to  more  able  pens  to  describe ;  but 
of  this  I  am  conscious  from  personal  experience,  that  no 
sooner  does  an  individual  indulge  in  ecstatic  day  dreams 
(and  night  dreams  too,  occasionally,)  of  waving  plumes, 
glittering  falchions,  and  spangled  trappings  —  with  all  the 
attendant  additions  of  scenic  castles,  rocks,  forests,  &c., 
&c.,  than  he  pants  ai'dently  as  lover  ever  did  for  the  mo- 
ment which  shall  give  to  his  arms  his  well-beloved,  for 
that  auspicious  day  which  shall  find  him  enrolled  a  wan- 
dering child  of  Thespis. 

Oh  !  guai-dian  angel  of  the  respected  and  beloved,  why 
wast  thou  slumbering  when  thy  child  quitted  the  paternal 
roof,  to  "  strut  and  fret  his  hour  upon  the  stage."  But 
sufiice  it,  the  profession  hath  its  charms,  and  the  love  of 


4  -  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

it  once  engendered  in  the  youthful  mind,  never  can  be 
wholly  or  entirely  eradicated. 

I  have  been  for  many  years  the  unworthy  representa- 
tive of  all  grades  of  human  nature,  from  kings  to  beggars, 
and  even  now,  at  times  experience  as  much  pleasure  as 
ever,  and  anticipate  the  hour  when  I  am  to  appear  in  a 
favorite  character,  as  anxiously  as  any  amateur  ever  did^ 
Even  sucb  an  insignificant  circumstance  (though  by  the 
way  not  so  insignificant  either  to  an  actoi')  as  a  round  of 
applause,  has  entirely  revolutionized  my  sentiments. 
Perhaps  I  was  disgusted  with  the  profession,  and  had 
resolved  to  relinquish  it  for  ever,  and  leturn,  like  a  prodi- 
gal son,  brimfuU  of  penitence.  "  And  could  a  few 
unmeaning  rounds  of  applause  thus  overthrow  your 
intentions,"  I  fancy  I  hear  some  sober-minded  parent 
exclaim,  with  uplifted  hands.  'Tis  even  so,  and  I  have 
hastily  resolved  to  pursue  the  enticing,  though  thorny 
path,  which  my  sanguine  hopes  anticipated  one  day  would 
lead  to  fame  and  renown. 

But  I  am  beginning  to  moralize,  the  which  is  not 
the  purpose  of  this  theme  ;  further,  what  I  have  said 
applied  to  the  state  of  the  profession  of  the  stage  when  I 
entered  it,  or  rather,  it  might  with  truth  be  added,  the 
condition  of  provincial  theatres  of  the  more  minute  class 
at  that  time.  There  was  very  little  chance  then  of  achiev- 
ing fiime  or  profit,  without  roughing  it,  and  ascending, 
step  by  step,  the  round  of  the  professional  ladder.  ISTow- 
a-days  ladies  and  gentlenien,  the  former  most  particu- 
larly, cannot  devote  their  attention  to  any  less  than  the 
principal  characters,  and  they  will  undertake  the  whole 
weight  and  consequence  of  a  five  act  play  with  a  temerity 
perfectly  appalling  to  any  one  who  is  conversant  with  the 
difficulties  of  the  operation.  The  gallantry  of  the  public 
is  of  course,  to  a  great  extent,  to  blame  for  these  futile 
attempts,  by  treating  with  favor  and  approbation  what 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  0 

tJieyJcnoto  to  be  unworthy  the  fittention  they  bestow  upon 
it.  It  is  as  impossible  to  make  an  actress  without  expe- 
rience, as  it  would  be  for  a  surgeon  to  qualify  for  the 
duties  oi  his  profession,  without  a  thorough  probation  in 
the  science  of  anatomy.  This  epidemic  for  stepping  at  a 
bound  into  the  position  of  Stars,  broke  out  with  great 
virulence  a  year  or  two  since  among  the  fair  sex,  but  I 
have  not'  heard  that  the  result,  m  a  single  instance,  has 
been  such  as  to  justify  the  belief  the  ladies  erroneously 
entertained  of  their  histrionic  skill,  or  to  satisfy  their 
friends  that  the  monies  invested  in  charges  paid  to  mana- 
gers for  first  appearances,  have  been  wisely  or  profitably 
expended. 

A  terrible  disease  burst  upon  Great  Britain  immediately 
after  the  production  of  the  "Lady  of  Lyons,"  and  both 
sexes  fell  victims  to  the  calamity  with  equal  severity. 

I  am  fully  aware,  while  penning  these  lines,  how  im- 
possible it  will  be  to  induce  many  of  my  readers  —  esjie- 
cially  those  who  have  fallen  victims  to  an  attack  of  the 
previously  described  malady  —  to  give  credence  to  my 
assertions,  or  place  the  smallest  reliance  upon  this  opinion. 
I  desire,  however,  to  adduce  as  an  illustration  of  my  views, 
the  remarks  of  the  late  Mr.  Harley,  the  celebrated  come- 
dian, which  is  pertinent  to  this  very  important  question.* 

"In  the  year  1840, 1  was  a  member  of  the  Bristol  thea- 
tre. During  the  season  Mr.  II.  came  from  London  to  play 
an  engagement.  The  conversation  happened  to  turn  upon 
the  subject  of  "fall  blown  artists,"  as  he  termed  them^ 
who  hadn't  patience,  or  industry,  to  wait  till  the  "  bud  of 
their  talent  began  to  blossom." 

"  When  I  first  acted  Shakspeare's  Clowns,"  said  ho,  "  I 
was  a  very  young  man,  and  felt  quite  satisfied  that  the 
rendition  of  those  parts  could  not  possibly  be  so  well  and 
truthfully  presented  by  established  actors  of  that  period 

*  Mr.  Ilarley  died  August  22,  1858,  aged  68. 


6  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

as  by  myself.  I  felt  satisfied  that  I  was  tLe  coming  man 
who  was  to  clearly  define  the  great  poet's  meaning,  and 
remove  the  veil  of  doubt  that  had  puzzled  so  many  bril- 
liant minds.  When  I  acquired  a  little  more  experience, 
I  began  gradually  to  realize  the  difficulties,  and  as  I  fur- 
ther advanced,  became  more  involved,  till  after  acting 
them  constantly  for  twenty  years,  I  discovered,  in  com- 
parison to  their  extreme  excellence,  I  knew  really  nothing 
about  themP 


CHAPTER  11. 

"How  irksome  is  this  music." 

— Second  part  Henry  VI.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

My  stern  parient  was  a  merchant,  of  the  city  of  London, 
(and  not  an  actor,  as  some  biographers  have  written,)  in 
which  ancient  city  I  was  born,  or,  as  it  is  poetically 
termed,  '■'■  first  saw  the  light"  on  the  17th  of  April,  1814. 

The  author  of  my  being,  who  had  a  solidarity  of  cor- 
recting his  offspring  which  will  not  readily  be  forgotten, 
while 

"  Memory  holds  her  seat  in  this  distracted  globe," 

had  no  dramatic  proclivity.  I  am  led,  however,  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  did  not  share  in  the  antagonism  for 
places  of  rational  amusement  indulged  in  by  some  of  the 
"  pater  fami-li-asses  "  of  the  present  day,  who  attend  the 
representation  of  Don  Giovanni^  in  its  lyrical  garb  with 
a  religious  enthusiasm ;  but  could  not  endanger  their 
prospects  of  squaring  accounts  with  the  consciences,  if 
they  were  to  assist  at  a  banquet  of  the  intellectual  food 
provided  by  the  genius  of  Shakspeare. 

My  mother  was  devoted  to  her  home  and  children  —  of 
whom  there  were  three  —  (children,  not  homes,)  casting  a 
halo  of  goodness  around  the  domestic  circle,  performing 
cheerfully,  and  with  an  unsparing  amount  of  womanly 
benignity  her  mission  of  usefulness,  tempered  with  the 
sweet  smile  of  that  natural  instinct  bequeathed  by  an  all 


8  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

wise  Providence,  as  a  counter  influence  against  the  harder 
proportion  of  our  common  nature!  For  in  those  days 
the  philosophy  of  woman's  oughts  and  oihev  phantasma- 
goria of  faith  had  not  cast  their  delusive  nets  into  the 
ocean  of  domestic  happiness,  sapping  the  vitality  of  that 
peace  it  is  its  duty  to  promote,  and  by  a  fatal  and  errone- 
ous code  of  teaching,  embittering  the  lives  of  those  it 
should  be  its  first  desire  to  propitiate,  by  joining  heart  and 
hand  in  the  common  cause  of  mutual  affection,  confidence, 
sympathy,  and  love. 

It  so  happened,  during  the  tedium  incidental  to  a  boy's 
bringing  up,  that  some  one  skilled  in  musical  lore,  made 
the  startling  discovery  that  I  possessed  a  voice  which 
might  be  attuned  to  harmony  after  the  necessary  proba- 
tion had  been  gone  through  sufiiciently  to  "  ground  us 
in  the  science," —  a  favorite  expression  of  the  party  in 
question. 

Gentle  reader,  did  you  ever  labor  under  the  infantile 
affliction  of  a  voice  ?  Only  those  who  have  been  attacked 
by  that  virulent  disorder,  can  form  the  minutest  concep- 
tion of  the  suffering  necessary  to  be  endured.  An  hour's 
exercise  on  that  vocal  alphabet  yclept  the  f/amiit,  on  the 
clammyest  of  mornings  incidental  to  a  London  autumn, 
with  a  walk  of  a  mile  to  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  and 
there  to  find  yourself  habited  in  a  clerical  garb  before  a 
very  limited  quantity  of  early  devotionals,  is  not  an  inter- 
esting proceeding  for  a  youthful  mind,  whose  only  thought 
of  the  eligible  future  of  such  a  probation  is  most  probably 
centered  in  the  protracted  breakfast  a  ravenous  appetite 
is  anxiously  waiting  to  pay  court  to,  rather  than  the  exer- 
cise of  his  vocal  organ  for  hire  and  reward,  when  he  shall 
arrive  at  the  dignity  of  man's  estate. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen,  the  voice  above  alluded  to,  after 
the  perpetual  grinding  process  to  which  it  had  been  so 
unremittingly  and  audaciously  subjected,  became  so  ex- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  9 

quisitely  tempered,  that  it  either  was  ground  down  alto- 
gether, or,  not  finding  the  wear  and  tear  upon  its  consti- 
tution likely  to  promote  its  ultimate  usefulness,  departed 
from  its  proprietary  without  the  slightest  intimation  of  its 
desire  to  peregrinate,  or  signifying  its  intention  that  it  ever 
designed  returning  to  its  original  location. 

Physic  was  the  next  experiment  proposed,  as  holding 
out  great  inducements  for  a  youth  to  get  well  up  in  the 
world,  and  become  a  person  of  substance,  (in  pocket,  not 
flesh,)  but  during  a  month's  probationary  servitude,  I  was 
very  nearly  qualifying  myself  for  a  landed  proprietorship 
in  the  neighboring  burial-place,  by  swallowing  a  copious 
draught  of  what  I  in  the  innocence  of  my  knowledge  of 
pharmacy,  believed  to  be  a  mild  decoction  of  peppermint, 
but  Avhich,  from  certain  unmistakable  internal  misgivings, 
proved  to  be  something  of  a  less  innoxious  nature,  requiring 
the  aid  of  a  stomach-pump  to  dislodge  it.  This  ingenious 
device,  assisted  by  gentle  emetics,  restored  me  to  a  state 
of  convalescence. 

Eccentricities  of  purpose,  too  numerous  to  particularize, 
beset  me  on  every  side,  till,  burning  with  dramatic  ardor, 
I  determined,  to  shake  the  dust  of  London  from  my  feet, 
and  seek  the  provincial  road  to  histrionic  fame.  A  con- 
genial spirit,  with  the  same  end  in  view,  accompanied  me 
on  my  probationary  adventure.  His  proclivities  were  of 
a  comic  nature  —  mine,  darldy^  deeply  tragic. 

My  store  of  worldly  riches  amounted  to  ten  shillings 
and  six  pence  sterling ;  my  wardrobe  did  not  much  retard 
locomotion,  and  with  hearts  swelling  with  expectations 
of  future  greatness,  we  wended  our  way  towards  Brighton, 
fifty-one  miles  from  the  great  metropolis. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  I  do  wander  everywhere." 
— Midsummer  JViuhVs  Dream.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  month  of  June,  when  nature 
Avas  atth-ed  in  her  most  gorgeous  garb,  we  left  Kenning- 
ton  Common  behind  us  with  a  merry  and  elastic  step. 
The  delightful  villas,  and  cosy  dwellings,  garnished  with 
the  choice  perfume  of  rare  exotics,  and  fashioned  to  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  man  of  wealth,  who  quits  the  bus- 
tle and  din  of  business  in  the  over-heated  city,  (that  hive 
of  commercial  drudgery,)  to  luxuriate  in  domestic  plea- 
sure and  social  ease,  meet  us  at  every  turn.  In  other 
spots,  with  their  wants  more  economically  considered, 
stand  the  homes  of  the  less  fortunate  laborers  in  the 
world's  vineyard,  their  youthful  branches  bearing  ample 
testimony  (if  any  were  needed)  by  their  buoyant  spii'its 
and  ruddy  looks,  of  the  invigorating  influence  of  their 
ample  breathing-place.  The  cows  by  the  wayside,  and 
who  are  surveying  the  road  from  their  pasture  grounds, 
evidently  believe  that  their  natures  have  never  been  de- 
graded, or  their  personal  pride  affected  by  any  admixture 
of  their  lacteal  fluid  at  the  hands  of  the  metropolitan 
milkman.  They  chew  their  cud  of  satisfaction  as  we 
pass,  without  exhibiting  a  fear  for  the  presence  of 
strangers,  so  common  among  their  species  who  suffer  the 
ignominy  of  a  residence  in  the  midst  of  a  crowded  popu- 
lace.    They  wink,  as  their  eyes  follow  us,  till  in  looking 


rOOTLlGIIT   FLASHES.  11 

back,  we  see  them  retreat  to  their  pasture,  leaving  the 
frothy  essence  from  their  mouths  upon  the  tops  of  the 
Ledges,  like  hoar  frost  on  an  early  winter  morning. 

"We  plodded  on  to  Reigate,  Avhere  the  chalky  cliffs  and 
extensive  fields  of  limestone,  impart  a  sensation  of  partial 
blindness  as  you  abruptly  encounter  the  sight  from  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  with  the  meridian  sun  seething  them 
after  a  heavy  shower  of  rain.  The  town  presented  nothing 
to  impress  you  with  the  belief  that  its  residents  had  ever 
visited  the  great  city. 

"We  were  nearly  wet  through,  and  by  the  time  we 
reached  the  most  business  part  of  the  town,  the  shades  of 
night  were  creeping  with  a  delicious  twilight,  gradually 
obscuring  the  spire  of  the  Episcopal  church,  the  only  one 
of  that  form  of  worship  the  place  could  then  boast.  A 
couple  of  agricultural  horses  were  enjoying  their  evening 
meal  in  front  of  the  Green  Dragon,  and  at  the  portal  of 
that  hostelry,  assuming  the  character  of  a  goodly  pair  of 
compasses,  was  the  host,  without  his  hat  and  coat.  Proba- 
bly an  unnecessary  piece  of  information,  it  being  conceded 
as  an  established  fact  that  that  fabulous  personage,  i.  e. 
"  the  oldest  inhabitant,"  has  not  furnished  the  world  with 
a  solitary  instance  of  an  English  boniface  ever  having 
been  seen  habited  in  outer  garments  of  that  nature. 

Two  sturdy  fellows  were  superintending  the  ablution 
of  the  nether  extremities  of  a  splendid  chesnut  mare, 
whose  expi-essive  eye  was  turned  winking  an  approval  at 
the  operation,  while  thx'ee  or  four  of  the  juvenile  popula- 
tion, paused  in  their  conversation  respecting  the  number 
of  bushels  of  wheat  to  the  acre  Providence  had  in  its 
bounty  bestowed  upon  Farmer  Stubble,  to  take  a  survey 
of  the  jaded  travellers. 

The  pleasure  derivable  from  certain  scenes  or  incidents, 
in  our  career,  affect  us  in  proportion  to  the  conclusions  we 
can  arrive  at  after  forming  a  diagnosis  of  their  usefulness. 


12  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

or  adaptability  for  the  several  purposes  of  life,  and  if  the 
minds  of  those  youthful  rustics  could  have  been  for  an 
instant  relieved  of  the  bewilderment  they  had  evidentlj' 
fallen  into  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  my  friend  and 
myself,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  believe  that  they  enter- 
tained the  most  vague  notions  of  our  purpose  and  design. 
Petty  lai-ceny  would  have  found  few  opportunities  to 
exercise  its  prowess,  if  we  had  felt  disposed  to  indulge  in 
that  fashionable  weakness ;  for  after  we  entered  the  Inn, 
and  were  enjoying  our  supper  of  bread,  cheese,  and  ale, 
these  inquisitive  natives  made  numerous  forays  of  enquiry, 
beguiling  the  early  part  of  the  evening  with  this  con- 
genial provincial  habit,  at  times,  in  the  most  playful  man- 
ner, landing  one  of  their  brigade  in  the  most  confused 
condition  in  the  middle  of  the  sanded  floor. 

Agricultural  disquisitions  are  not  particularly  edifying 
to  those  whom  fate  destined  to  be  ushered  into  life  and 
reared  towards  man's  estate  within  the  precincts  of  great 
cities,  it  may,  therefore,  be  readily  supposed  that  when 
the  usual  occupants  of  the  room  began  to  assemble,  that 
the  quota  of  information  we  could  impart  on  the  subject, 
was  not  very  extensive.  It  w\as  somewhat  of  a  relief 
when  the  landlord,  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  us  out_ 
went  headlong  into  politics,  in  which  my  fellow-traveller 
happened  to  be  so  well  skilled  that  we  were  soon  per- 
fectly at  ease,  and,  after  the  roughest  portion  of  the  visi- 
tors had  departed,  we,  in  company  with  two  congenial 
spirits,  were  invited  by  the  boniface  to  a  friendly  glass  in 
his  private  sanctum  behind  the  bar. 

"What  a  cosy  delightful  place  the  bar  of  a  country  inn 
used  to  be  to  the  tired  traveller.  The  -well  polished  pew- 
ter mugs  depending  from  the  brass  nails  garnishing  the 
shelves,  relieved  here  and  there  with  bright  tumblers, 
their  thick  circular  pediments  turned  upwards,  and  sur 
mounted  with  large  juicy  lemons.     The  round  of  corned 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  13 

beef,  what  a  size  the  ox  must  have  been,  you  think,  as  you 
contemplate  the  huge  platter  of  metal  that  seems  almost 
to  groan  beneath  the  weight  of  a  single  joint!  The 
buck-horned  handled  carver  and  fork,  protruding  from  its 
sides,  the  parsley  so  plentifully  displayed  in  its  refreshing 
green  to  impart  a  zest,  if  any  were  needed,  to  the  appe- 
tite. The  home-made  bread,  not  sparingly  paraded,  but 
of  fitting  dimensions  to  suit  the  most  voracious  desire,  the 
pickles,  also  of  domestic  preparation;  the  whole  sur- 
mounted by  those  infallible  punch  bowls  of  various  sizes, 
from  the  quiet  little  revelry  of  a  friend  or  two,  to  the 
annual  Christmas  cheer,  when  all  available  nature  gives 
thanks  to  God  for  favors  past,  and  invokes  a  blessing  for 
the  future. 

It  was  midnight  when  the  guests  departed,  and  we 
ascended  and  descended  several  tortuous  stairs  and  pas- 
sages, to  where  we  were  to  pass  the  night.  The  morning 
broke  with  nature's  concert  of  feathered  performers, 
cheerily  carolling  a  welcome  to  the  rising  sun,  each  in 
ecstacy  for  the  day-light,  pouring  forth  a  bright  example 
to  mellifluous  mortals,  who  in  operatic  conjunction  are 
seldom  as  harmonious  as  nature's  choristers. 

What  a  breakfast  we  eat  too !  The  round  of  beef  was 
a  prominent  performer  at  the  feast.  The  smiles  of  the 
good  natured  landlady  and  her  husband,  who  presided, 
had  much  to  do  with  the  comfort  of  the  meal.  We  pre- 
pared to  pursue  our  journey.  We  had  serious  misgivings 
that  we  had  committed  an  act  of  impropriety  by  ban- 
queting so  lavishly  at  the  commencement  of  our  journey, 
with  our  limited  exchequer,  nevertheless  proceeded  to 
disburse.  There  is  a  rough  delicacy  amongst  the  unlet- 
tered, of  conferring  favors,  which  we  not  unfrequently 
look  for  in  vain  from  those  who  are  skilled  in  all  the  arti- 
ficial refinements  of  luxury,  education,  and  ease.  This 
stalwart  free-hearted  boniface  had  listened  the  previous 


14  POOTLIGIIT   FLASHES. 

night  to  our  descriptious  of  the  haunts  and  by-ways  of 
London.  He  had  read  with  wonder  how  j^ersons  from 
the  country  had  been  decoyed  into  the  purchase  of  arti- 
cles of  apparently  great  value,  the  retailers  having  only 
been  induced  to  part  with  them  from  intuitive  affection 
they  couldn't  possibly  repress  for  the  purchaser,  the 
favored  ones  discovering  when  too  late,  that  they  had 
invested  about  two  hundred  per  cent,  above  their  actual 
cost.  He  had  a  boy  who  early  in  life  displayed  evidences 
of  a  roving  disposition  which  he  had  felt  it  impossible  to 
check,  and  from  whom,  during  an  absence  of  six  years,  he 
had  heard  but  once.  He  pitied  us  that  Ave,  so  young, 
were  starting  to  seek,  perhaps,  a  visionary  glory  —  we 
were  welcome  —  very  happy  to  see  us  ;  if  ever  we  came 
that  way  again,  we  must  not  forget  to  call,  and  many 
more  things  in  that  delightfully  awkward  way  in  which 
modesty  so  universally  bestows  a  compliment.  I  met 
this  generous  spirit  some  years  afterwards.  He  had  set- 
tled at  Brighton.  My  professional  position  was  very  sat- 
isfactory, and  I  passed  many  pleasant  hours  with  himself 
and  wife,  including  the  smart  son  who  had  been  to  Aus- 
tralia, and  amassed  considerable  money  by  the  culture  of 
sheep. 

We  had  calculated  our  chances  of  something  turning 
up,  (like  Micawber,  though  Mr.  Dickens  had  not  then 
introduced  that  celebrated  individual  to  an  admiring 
world,)  from  the  fact  that  if  that  fashionable  watering 
place  failed  to  offer  us  half,  or  the  entire  receipts  of  each 
evening's  performance  for  an  unlimited  period,  there  were 
other  temples  of  Thespis  at  various  points  along  the  sea 
coast  that  would  surely  not  be  indifferent  to  their  own 
interests,  nor  insensible  to  our  great  dramatic  skill. 

Oh,  delusive  hope !  "We  reached  Brighton,  that  seat  of 
Bait  water,  folly,  and  flirtation,  two  days  from  the  time  we 
set  out,  weary,  and  footsore,  with  three  shillings  and  nine- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  15 

pence  in  our  pockets,  and  two  bad  cases  of  influenza 
equally  divided. 

We  were,  however,  full  of  hope.  We  sought  the  mana- 
ger next  morning,  and  found  he  was  full  too,  not  only  of 
hope  —  for  he  had  been  hoping  on,  and  expected  to  "  hope 
ever  "  —  but  he  had,  as  he  expressed  himself,  "  too  many 
bad  actors  already  in  his  company,  and  had  no  desire, 
with  bad  business  staring  him  in  the  face,  to  augment  the 
number." 

We  took  a  stroll  on  the  beach,  where  we  held  a  coun- 
cil of  war  in  relation  to  our  future  prospects.  Our  com- 
panion suggested  that,  as  we  were  nearly  financially 
exhausted,  or  "  stumped,"  as  he  poetically  expressed  it, 
the  most  desirable  plan  would  be  to  shape  our  course 
towards  London.  I  felt  inwardly  of  the  like  opinion;  but 
my  spirit  was  not  so  readily  subdued,  for  I  had  determined 
to  succeed,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  We  turned  our 
steps,  however,  toward  the  point  from  whence  we  started, 
and  enjoyed  nine  miles  of  cogitation,  till  we  approached 
the  delightful  little  town  of  Lewes.  Here  we  learned,  by 
an  accident  that  sometimes  did  occur  in  those  days  of 
stage  coaches,  (we  got  sight  of  a  newspaper,)  that  a  small 
company,  at  a  little  town  near  Hastings,  had  been  made 
smaller  by  the  withdrawal  of  two  of  its  members  for  a 
more  extensive  arena  for  the  development  of  their  pow- 
ers. We  determined  to  make  a  trial  of  our  fortunes  with 
the  Mogul  who  exerted  his  managerial  sway  over  the 
company's  destiny,  and  when  we  had  succeeded  in 
delighting  the  inhabitants  of  that  district,  and  our  fame 
and  attractiveness  should  reach  the  ears  of  the  Brighton 
magnate,  what  ecstacy  we  should  experience  as  we  beheld 
him  entering  the  town  as  rapidly  as  post  horses  could 
bring  him,  entreating  and  beseeching  us  to  favor  his 
patrons  with  a  glimpse  of  our  excellence,  at  terms  to  be 
named  by  ourselves. 


16  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Having  settled  this  raatter  perfectly  to  our  own  satis- 
action,  we  invested  a  small  amount  of  our  worldly  riches, 
in  refreshments  of  as  corpulent  and  nutritious  a  nature  as 
we  could  aiFord,  and  after  wandering  about  the  neigh- 
boring fields,  took  up  our  quarters  on  tlie  outskirts  of 
the  town,  at  a  small  inn,  the  like  of  which  existed  before 
the  iron  monster  of  the  rail-road  closed  'era  up  by  bis 
absurdly  expeditious  habit  of  never  giving  people  time  to 
sleep  on  a  journey. 

The  sun  was  waning,  and  its  lurid  glare  fast  travelling 
out  towards  the  sea  with  a  diversified  grandeur  of  color 
when  we  came  upon  a  rural  resting  place,  lying  in  pic- 
turesque beauty  within  the  embraces  of  a  cluster  of  large 
elm  trees.  The  dwelling  had  no  pretensions  to  architec- 
tural propriety,  being  entirely  independent  of  any  known 
order,  past  or  present,  but  there  was  a  solid  somnolent 
satisfaction  about  it  as  if  it  would  say,  "  Here  friend,  you 
have  good  cheer,  sweetened  with  a  hearty  welcome," 
which  at  once  ingratiated  itself  into  your  good  opinion. 
A  picture  of  the  venerable  uncle  Toby,  armed  with  his 
pipe  and  foaming  pitcher  of  ale,  most  boldly  rendered  by 
the  artist,  swung  upon  the  summit  of  a  post,  the  lower 
portion  of  which  had  suffered  considerably  by  the  impa- 
tience of  the  equine  customers  who  had  broken  and 
devoured  its  splinters,  doubtless  for  the  purpose  of  assist- 
ing digestion  while  waiting  for  their  further  allowance  of 
fodder. 

A  drowsy  looking  pony,  profusely  supplied  with  hair 
about  the  legs,  but  lamentably  deficient  of  that  hirsute 
luxury  as  regards  the  tail,  was  thus  busily  engaged  as  we 
approached  the  spot.  Two  or  three  teamsters  were 
smoking,  and  gaily  preparing  their  cattle  in  order  to  their 
departure,  while  the  landlady  —  brilliant  in  cap  trim- 
mings—  was  within  the  porch  to  bid  them  an  adieu. 
The   large  black  dog,  who  lay  beside  the  horse  trough. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  17 

casually  glanced  at  iis,  as. if  he  would  say,  "If  you  are  in 
search  of  a  first-class  place  for  comfort,  you've  hit  it  this 
time,"  and  the  thrush  hanging  in  his  wicker-work  tene- 
ment, poured  forth  his  evening  song  with  true  content 
and  happiness.  The  latticed  -windows  of  the  sleeping 
rooms  peeped  out  in  various  forms  through  the  thickly 
clustered  ivy  in  which  the  house  seemed  imbedded,  and 
the  smoke  from  the  wood  fire  in  the  kitchen  curled  in 
fontastic  designs,  diffusing  itself  upwards  amongst  its  na- 
tive element,  the  trees. 

If  a  man  may  be  known  by  the  company  he  keeps,  the 
resources  of  his  exchequer  may,  with  quite  as  good  a 
reason,  philosophically,  be  fathomed,  by  the  aspect  of  his 
exterior.  It  will  be  willingly  conceded  by  the  writer  that 
the  appearance  of  himself  and  friend  was  not  such  as  to 
inspire  the  beholder  with  the  conviction  that  we  possessed 
a  superfluity  of  the  circulating  medium  at  whose  shrine 
all  nature  are,  more  or  less,  willing  to  bow. 

The  customary  peregrinators  who  may  be  said  to  "  live 
on  the  road,"  are  easily  distinguished  by  the  practised 
observer;  but  an  occasional  adventurer  turns  up,  now 
and  then,  whose  purpose  or  destination  will  harass  the 
mind  of  the  most  critical.  It  was  our  fate  to  considerably 
puzzle  the  shrewdness  of  the  worthy  landlady  as  we  passed 
into  the  inn,  requesting  to  be  accommodated  for  the 
nijxht. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  And  should  she  thus  be  stolen  away  from  you, 
It  would  be  much  vexation  to  your  age." 
-  — Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona.     Act  3.     Scene  1. 

A  VERY  old  man  was  seated  beside  the  fire-place  in  the 
taproom,  watching  a  black  saucepan  formed  like  a  funnel, 
and  for  the  most  part  imbedded  in  a  pile  of  burning 
wood.  He  raised  his  head  at  our  approach,  returning  his 
gaze  upon  the  saucepan,  which  speedily  began  to  simmer. 
He  was  plainly  but  comfortably  habited  in  a  long  blue 
coat,  of  a  rather  antique  date,  with  capacious  side-pockets, 
a  mixture  vest,  grey  breeches  and  stockings,  with  very 
thick  shoes,  perfectly  innocent  of  blacking,  and  secured  to 
the  instep  by  thongs  of  leather. 

A  shock-headed  boy  in  velveteen,  his  shirt  sleeves  rolled 
up  above  the  elbows,  placed  before  him  a  long  clay-pipe, 
and  screw,  or  paper,  of  tobacco,  and  after  emptying  the 
warm  porter  into  a  pewter  pot  upon  the  table,  withdrew 
to  light  up  the  premises  for  the  evening. 

"  Good  evening,  Jacob,"  was  the  first  sound  that  broke 
the  silence,  after  the  departure  of  this  rustic  retainer. 
The  salutation  came  from  a  fine  looking  young  man  of 
some  twenty-six  summers,  dressed  in  a  shooting  costume, 
his  gaiters  swelling  almost  to  bursting  with  their  well 
developed  legs.  Carelessly  throwing  his  hat  upon  the 
table,  he  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered,  of  the  buxom  damsel 
who  responded  to  tlie  summons,  a  mug  of  ale  and  a  crust 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  19 

of  bread  and  cheese,  requesting  as  a  personal  favor,  that 
the  Hebe  who  was  to  present  the  same  wonld,  prior  to  its 
delivery,  cast  one  of  her  sweetest  glances  into  the  meas- 
ure, in  oi'der  to  render  it  more  palatable  and  delicious. 

Pending  the  arrival  of  this  refreshment,  the  young  man 
availed  himself  of  the  customary  forlorn  hope  of  the 
British  subject,  when  in  need  of  a  matter  for  discussion, 
and  asserted  it  as  his  firm  conviction  that  the  then  state 
of  the  weather  was  of  the  precise  kind  to  suit  the  agricul- 
tural interest  in  that  section  of  the  country,  being  the 
only  instance  on  record,  within  the  writer's  personal  expe- 
rience, wherein  that  numerous  class  have  admitted  the 
receipt  of  a  satisfactory  sample  of  the  season's  consign- 
ments. 

The  order  for  his  repast  was  speedily  fulfilled,  and  while 
in  course  of  liquidation,  aiforded  a  favorable  opportunity 
to  express  homage  to  beauty,  the  recipient  coyly  i-allying 
with  a  charge  of  female  artifice  replete  with  resignation 
and  approval. 

The  old  man  had  finished  his  pipe,  and  now  rose  to 
depart ;  taking  his  hat  and  cane,  he  bowed  an  adieu,  and 
quitted  the  room. 

"  A  very  fine  looking  old  gentleman,"  I  ventured  to 
remark,  as  soon  as  he  was  fully  out  of  hearing. 

"  Yes,  pretty  much  so,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  Not  ac- 
quainted with  him,  s'pose  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear  no!  we  are  strangers  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  and  are  on  our  way  to  Hastings.  For  my  part 
I  should  think,  if  I  were  to  take  the  liberty  of  forming  a 
judgment,  that  he  is  better  adapted  for  a  listener,  than  a 
dispenser  of  knowledge." 

"  Aye,  likely !  likely ! "  responded  the  countrynaan. 
"  He's  lived  here  a  good  many  years,  old  Jacob  has ; 
every  body  likes  him  on  account  of  his  curious  history." 

"Indeed!     Has  he  endured  hardships  in  defence  of  an 


20  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

ungrateful  country,  and  grown  weary  of  presenting  his 
claims  to  the  notice  of  its  insolent  officials?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  Would  you  like  to  hear  his  story  ?  It's  not 
a  very  long  one." 

"Much,"  I  answered. 

"  Well  then,  let  us  fill  uj),  and  start  fair."  Our  mugs 
were  replenished,  and  after  a  repetition  of  the  similar  con- 
duct before  described,  not  in  the  least  degree  abridged  or 
modified,  he  took  a  hearty  draught,  and  composed  himself 
to  give  us  the 

STOKY   OF   JACOB   MILLET. 

"  The  night  was  mighty  cold,  when  the  guard's  horn 
was  heard  playing  one  of  its  favorite  tunes,  descending 
the  hill  from  London.  I  can  only  just  remember  the 
time ;  for  I  was  not  much  above  ten  years  old  when  Jacob 
Millet  arrived  here,  as  outside  passenger  on  the  Hope 
coach,  dashing  up  to  the  inn  in  its  usual  jaunty  style,  with 
its  expert  coachman  and  musical  guard.  The  Hope  did 
all  the  best  business  ;  the  squire  and  all  his  folks  round 
the  neighborhood,  when  they  didn't  lase  their  own  teams, 
used  to  patronize  it.  Jacob  was  rather  a  dashing  chap, 
even  at  that  time ;  but  he  seems  to  me  to  have  grown 
old  very  rapidly,  since,  that  is  to  say,  within  the  last  four 
or  five  years.  Nothing  particular  was  observed  in  his 
manner  or  appearance.  At  the  time  he  alighted,  he 
requested  some  one  to  show  him  to  a  room  where  he 
could  take  supper  and  pass  the  night.  The  doors  of  the 
cofiee-room  were  open,  and  the  customary  meal  smoking 
hot,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  passengers  —  for  the  coach 
always  supped  here  —  but  he  refused  to  enter  it;  and, 
even  preferred  to  wait  till  a  fire  was  kindled  in  an  upper 
chamber,  sauntering  up  and  down  the  road  till  the  pre 
parations  were  completed. 

"The  folks  in  the  place  who  waited  on  him,  couldn't 


FOOTLIGHT   FJLASHES.  21 

heljo  noticing  that  he  was  much  troubled  in  his  mind  and 
manner.  "When  he  retired  to  bed  he  was  restless,  and 
was  distinctly  beard  pacing  his  room  at  short  intervals 
throughout  the  night. 

"  In  the  morning  there  was  no  change  in  the  style  of  his 
conduct  from  the  previous  night,  except  asking  a  few 
questions  about  the  time  the  Brighton  coaches  passed. 
It  was  nearly  a  week  before  anything  happened  worth 
noticing;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time,  he  received  a  letter 
which  seemed  to  excite  him  terribly.  He  was  out  con- 
stantly on  the  road,  and  eagerly  scrutinizing  the  passen- 
gers while  the  coaches  changed  horses.  Well,  sir,  just 
as  it  was  getting  dark  on  a  Wednesday  night,  the  mail 
^ame  rattling  up  with  those  celebrated  four  greys  — 
thorough  blood  they  were  too,  and  very  much  admired. 
Folks  used  to  say  it  was  a  pleasure  to  sit  behind  such 
cattle  —  as  a  dashing,  handsome-looking  man  alighted 
from  the  inside,  Jacob  started  and  made  a  desperate  blow 
at  him  with  a  pretty  stout  cudgel  he  always  carried, 

"  The  man  reeled  as  soon  as  struck,  and  went  in  to  defend 
himself;  but  Jacob  was  too  quick  for  him,  and  kept  fol- 
lowing him  up  towards  the  coach-door,  for  which  he  tried 
to  make.  Loud  and  piercing  shrieks- were  heard  from  a 
female,  who  was  endeavoring  to  assist  the  beaten  man 
into  the  vehicle.  Scarcely  a  word  was  uttered  during  the 
time,  except  in  broken  sentences,  such  as  villain !  de- 
ceiver! false  friend!  and  the  like.  The  beaten  man 
scrambled  with  difficulty  into  the  coach,  and  after  the 
ostlers  had  got  the  restive  cattle  a  little  quieted,  the 
coachman  let  'em  have  their  heads,  and  away  they  started. 
You  may  be  sure  the  neighborhood  was  terribly  agitated  ; 
all  manner  of  rumors  were  afloat  as  to  the  cause  of  the 
quarrel,  and  the  man  who  used  to  do  all  the  news  at  that 
time,  for  the  Brighton  paper,  gave  a  very  animated 
description  of  the  whole  aflair,  as  from  an  eye-witness, 


22  FOOTLIGnT   FLASHES. 

how  Jacob  had  charged  the  man,  who  was  represented  as 
holding  a  very  fine  ofiice  under  government,  with  running 
away  with  his  wife,  and  forging  his  name  for  some  large 
amounts ;  how  the  lady,  whose  personal  appearance  was 
fully  described,  had  sprung  from  the  coach  and  thrown 
herself  between  them,  calling  for  help  ;  how  she  fainted, 
and  was  carried  into  the  inn,  and  was  brought  to  her 
senses  by  the  worthy  landlady  and  her  charming  daugh- 
ter ;  how  it  took  the  coachman,  guard,  and  four  stablemen 
to  prevent  Jacob  inflicting  more  punishment  upon  the 
destroyer  of  his  domestic  peace,  who  lay  covered  with 
blood  in  the  middle  of  the  high  road,  from  whence  he  was 
removed  with  difficulty  to  the  coach,  where  the  lady  was 
afterwards  placed  upon  two  feather  pillows ;  that  Jacob 
was  with  great  difficulty  dissuaded  from  mounting  a 
swift  horse  and  following  in  pursuit.  It  all  ended  with  a 
perfect  history  of  the  private  affairs  of  all  the  parties  frora 
their  youth,  with  several  very  amusing  incidents  which 
befel  the  lady  while  at  a  foshionable  school  in  the  south 
of  France ;  the  amount  of  dower  her  husband  received 
with  her,  the  name  of  the  firm  where  he  kept  his  banking 
account,  and  every  particular  thing  that  was  like  to  inter- 
est the  reader,  which  everybody  at  a  distance  fully 
believed,  while  it  was  well  known  here  that  on  the  night 
of  the  occurrence,  the  writer  of  it  had  been  taken  home 
by  one  of  the  waiters  in  the  Blue  Lion,  very  much  intoxi- 
cated, after  enjoying  the  good  cheer  of  the  annual  feast 
of  the  churchwardens,  who  met  to  devise  means  and  raise 
funds  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  during  the  following 
winter. 

"  In  a  few  days  Jacob  went  to  London,  and  remained  for 
about  two  months ;  when  he  returned,  he  was  so  dejected 
and  unhappy,  that  his  strength  gave  way,  and  was  followed 
by  a  violent  fit  of  illness,  which  confined  him  to  his  bed 
for  a  long  time.  In  his  wanderings  he  uttered  charges  of 
great    ingratitude    against   some    one  that   had    basely 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  23 

wronged  him  ;  the  landlady,  who  watched  him  with  most 
unceasing  care,  bore  with  his  whims,  and  fancies,  to  such 
an  extent,  that  he  couldn't  help  confiding  to  her  one 
evening,  the  story  of  his  grief. 

"Then  he  told  her  how  he  had  lost  his  wife  many  years 
ago,  leaving  him  with  an  only  child  —  a  daughter  —  how 
much  he  doated  on  her ;  how  he  had  expended  large  sums 
of  money  on  her  education  ;  how  she  had,  in  the  bloom  of 
youth,  listened  to  the  addresses  of  one  who  was  a  roue^ 
and  unworthy  of  her.  How  she  had  eloped  with  him  ; 
how  they  were  on  their  way  to  London,  when  he  surprised 
them ;  how,  when  he  had  discovered  the  cheat  the  seducer 
had  played  upon  her,  she  had  died  wiiile  giving  birth  to 
a  child,  leaving  him  solitary  and  alone  in  the  world.  He 
admitted  that  he  had  never  met  with  so  much  disinter- 
ested friendship  as  he  did  here  at  the  hands  of  the  land- 
lady, and  he  w^ould  feel  happier  to  locate  himself  near 
such  kind  and  considerate  people  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 

"  He  took  a  cottage,  (the  one  just  over  the  hill,)  where 
he  beguiled  his  time,  attended  by  a  single  servant,  dig- 
ging and  planting  in  his  little  garden,  or  playing  on  the 
violincello,  on  which  instrument  he  is  a  very  skillful  per- 
former. He  strictly  enjoined  the  landlady,  when  he 
found,  by  the  questions  she  would  occasionally  put  to 
him,  that  he  had,  in  a  moment  of  thoughtlessness  been 
betrayed  into  a  recital  of  his  story,  that  she  must  con- 
sider it  in  the  light  of  a  secret,  and  never  reveal  it  to  any 
one.  It  oozed  out,  however,  somehow,  '  women  are  not 
good  hands  at  keeping  a  secret,  you  know,  sir.'  And 
here  old  Jacob  comes  every  evening  to  take  his  warm 
ale,  and  pipe  of  tobacco,  and  seems  to  have  little  spirit  for 
any  other  pastime,  save  his  j^assion  for  music. 

"  Taking  his  hat,  he  wished  us  a  good  night,  pausing  at 
the  door  with  a  request  that,  if  we  should  see  Jacob 
again,  we  wouldn't  mention  that  he  had  dropped  a  hint 
about  the  matter,  because,  '  It  is  a  secret  you  know.' " 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  For  beauty  is  a  witch, 
Against  whose  charms  faith  melteth  into  blood." 

— Much  Ado.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

THE    BEAUTY    OF    THE    INN. 

Shall  I  ever  forget  the  snowy  whiteness  of  ray  bed, 
and  its  appurtenances  ?  Much  less  shall  I  ever  forget  the 
radiant  beauty  of  the  landlord's  daughter,  who  prepared, 
with  her  own  fair  hands,  a  delicious  supper  of  ham  and 
eggs  in  the  private  sanctum  behind  the  bar,  and  shall  I 
ever  forget  how  much  I  was  struck  with  this  maiden,  her 
rosy  lips,  and  the  transparent  texture  of  her  skin,  glowing 
with  health  such  as  the  pure  country  air  only  can  impart 
to  those  who  pass  their  time  continually  inhaling  its 
invigorating  perfume  ?  The  recollection  haunts  me  still. 
I  remember  I  would  have  offered  to  marry  her  on  the 
spot,  if  my  exchequer  could  have  warranted  me  in  indulg- 
ing in  such  an  expensive  luxury ! 

What  a  night  I  passed !  Sleep  was  out  of  the  question ; 
but  when  I  did  get  into  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  I  had 
an  insane  notion  of  stealing  cautiously  to  where  her  aged 
father  slumbered,  depriving  him  of  his  brief  existence, 
carrying  off  his  charming  daughter  to  some  remote  Indian 
settlement,  where  to  pass  the  honey-moon  on  buffalo 
humps,  with  bear-steaks  for  Sundays,  would  have  been 
the  ac7ne  of  human  felicity. 

At  length  I  fell  into  a  profound,  unmistakable  sleep,  and 
believing  I  had  carried  my  design  into  execution,  and 
while  in  the  act  of  masticating  my  first  meal  of  buffalo, 
the  war  cry  of  justice  came  howling  down  upon  me,  tear- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  25 

ing  mc  with  a  fiendish  triumph  from  the  arms  of  my 
kidy  love,  and  consigning  me  without  remorse  to  the 
chilling  embrace  of  the  county  gaol,  on  a  charge  of  mur- 
der and  abduction. 

I  felt  certain  I  had  heard  the  tramj)  of  the  horses  that 
were  to  convey  me  to  a  boat  that  should  return  the  idol 
of  my  soul  to  the  paternal  roof,  and  myself  to  the  less 
pleasing  dwelling  above  mentioned ;  and  I  breathed  ven- 
geance on  the  cruel  heads  of  those  who  could,  in  spite  of 
entreaties,  remorselessly  tear  asunder  such  fond,  such 
doting  natures,  and  I  uttered  imprecations  of  a  most  un- 
complimentary character  against  the  world  in  general, 
and  my  pursuers  in  particular.  Nay,  I  even,  in  the  excess 
of  my  rage  and  indignation,  seized  a  tomahawk  and  felled 
the  most  athletic  among  them  to  the  earth,  planting  my 
foot  upon  his  prostrate  form  with  the  satisfaction  of  a 
conqueror  against  one  of  an  adverse  tribe,  and  would 
have  devoured  him  on  the  spot,  if  my  early  taste  for 
luxuries  had  not  rendered  such  savory  nourishment 
impalatable. 

This  was  my  frame  of  mind  as  morning  dawned.  It 
may,  therefore  be  readily  understood  my  feelings  were 
not  in  a  very  quiescent  condition,  as  I  believed  I  had 
duly  qualified  myself  for  an  illustration  of  capital  punish- 
ment, when  I  was  suddenly  aroused  by  my  companion 
to  the  fixct  that  he  regarded  me  as  a  public  nuisance,  and 
found  it  impossible  to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  one 
who  didn't  enjoy  his  repose  like  a  decent  Christian. 
Before  I  had  time  to  dispute  or  question  this  conclusion, 
we  were  summoned  to  breakfast. 

Our  toilet  was  not  very  extravagant.  It  was  soon 
completed,  and  while  waiting  to  be  apprized  that  the 
morning  meal  was  on  the  table,  I  sauntered  to  the  back 
of  the  inn,  and  there  leaned,  in  what  I  conceived  to  be 
a  very  graceful  attitude,  against  the  pump,  gazing  most 
2 


26  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

earnestly  at  the  windows  of  the  second  story,  the  top  one 
in  this  23articuh^r  instance,  not  from  any  known  conviction 
that  my  soul's  idol  occi;pied  one  of  those  apartments, 
but  from  an  intuitive  belief  I  have  always  entertained 
that  all  landlords'  pretty  daughters  sleep  in  the  back 
parts  of  inns  —  probably  placed  there  by  a  dispensation 
of  Providence,  to  be  ready  for  an  elopement  without  being 
observed  by  the  private  watchman  or  legally  qualified 
guardian  of  the  public  peace. 

I  had  not  been  long  in  contemplation  when  my  ears 
were  assailed  with  the  following  colloquy  : 

"Betty!" 

«  Yes,  Miss." 

"  Is  them  two  London  chaps  up  yet  ?  " 

"Yes,  Miss :  I  seed  one  on  'em  in  the  cofFce-room  just 
now." 

I  was  all  attention.  She  was  surely  going  to  make  a 
confidant  of  the  domestic,  and  confess  the  impression  that 
I  had  made  upon  her  susceptible  nature,  when  she  pro- 
ceeded : 

"I  hope  they  ain't  stole  nothing,  and  runned  away 
with  it.  It's  a  pity  somebody  don't  send  'em  up  to  town, 
to  their  friends;  for  I  do  think  they  are  respectable 
chaps — but  the  one  in  the  drab  coat,  is  the  biggest  fool 
I  ever  did  see.  Last  night  I  gave  'em  both  some  supper, 
'cause  they  looked  so  very  wretched,  and  all  the  time 
that  chap  was  eating  it,  he  was  looking  at  me  in  the 
spoonest  way  you  ever  did  see.  I  w^as  watching  him 
through  the  looking-glass  over  the  fire-place.  I  thought 
I  should  have  died  with  laughing  at  the  fool!  Men  must 
be  scarce  indeed,  for  me  to  fancy  such  a  scarecrow  sort 
of  chap  as  that." 

My  self-esteem  sank  a  long  way  below  zero  immedi- 
ately' upon  hearing  this  distressing  admission,  and  as  ] 
shrank   away  from  the  spot,  felt  an  inward  conviction 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  27 

that  I  might  then  and  there  be  purchased  like  goods  out 
of  season,  at  an  alarming  sacrifice  !  I  told  this  tale  after- 
wards, but  did  my  travelling-companion  the  honor  of 
making  him  the  hero  of  the  story. 

"  THE    COTINTRT    MANAGER." 

AVe  soon  took  a  hasty  farewell,  and  proceeded  on  our 
journey.  By  dint  of  some  exertion,  we  reached  the  loca- 
tion we  proposed  to  astonish,  at  aboi^t  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  immediately  sought  the  manager.  The 
handmaiden  who  admitted  us  to  a  small,  but  particularly 
neat  looking  cottage,  inflicted  another  wound  upon  our 
feelings,  by  announcing  us  as  "two  boys,"  as  wanted  to 
see  the  manager.  We  were  ushered  into  the  presence  of 
"the  last  glimmer  of  the  great  Kemble  and  Siddonian 
era,"  as  he  used  to  designate  himself,  and  shall  not  be 
going  far  out  of  the  course  of  my  narrative,  if  I  give  the 
reader  some  account  of  his  appearance  and  habits. 

In  i^erson  he  was  large,  in  appearance  benevolent.  In 
height  he  had  as  much  as  most  men  can  boast  of,  while 
in  rotundity  he  possessed  more  than  actors  with  tragic 
proclivities  care  to  be  encumbered  with.  Not  to  be 
Tingenerous,  he  was  what  is  usually  designated  as  a  fat, 
podgy  man.  In  fact,  his  circumference  had  increased  so 
much  within  the  last  few  years,  that  he  found  himself  at 
times  subjected  to  impertinent  remarks  from  some  of  the 
choice  spirits  among  the  audience  who  couldn't  bear  with 
his  increasing  bulk  in  the  heroes  of  the  Shaksperian 
drama,  and  who  would  insinuate  as  much  from  the  pit  of 
the  theatre,  when  he  was  endeavoring  to  illustrate  the 
last  moments  of  the  poet's  choicest  creations. 

His  face  was  ruddy,  almost  amounting  to  a  purple  hue ; 
even  in  its  quiescent  state,  when  lender  the  influence  of 
artistic  inspiration,  it  assumed  a  cerulean  intensity  posi- 
tively distressing  to  witness. 


28  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

His  costume  was  airy,  and  worn  with  a  negligence 
which  ever  distinguishes  great  master  minds  from  the 
common  every  day  mortals,  being  a  mixture  of  the 
dramatic  with  the  social,  so  happily  blended  that  the 
combination  was  rather  agreeable  than  otherwise.  His 
feet  were  encased  in  slippers  of  purple  velvet,  such  as  the 
monarchs  of  tragedy  are  wont  to  indulge  in.  His  panta- 
loons were  of  a  pepper  and  salt  color,  with  a  larger  pro- 
portion of  the  latter  seasoning  than  the  formei*.  The 
buttons,  or  fastenings  with  which  they  were  moored  to 
his  waist,  had  long  ago  burst  from  their  anchorage,  and 
the  canvas  that  had  originally  aided  in  their  security, 
now  hung  from  their  apertures  with  a  forlorn  aspect  of 
untidiness  and  neglect.  His  linen  might  have  impressed 
the  casual  observer  with  the  conviction  that  a  heavy  tax 
had  been  most  remorselessly  and  suddenly  placed  upon 
soap,  whereby  his  acquaintanceship  with  that  necessary 
article  of  domestic  consumption  had  been,  in  consequence 
of  his  very  limited  exchequer,  for  a  length  of  time  sus- 
pended. 

Such  was  the  manager,  as  he  sat  in  a  large  easy  chair, 
indulging  in  the  luxury  of  a  pipe  of  huge  dimensions, 
with  mountings  of  silver,  a  plate  of  which  precious  metal 
acquainted  the  curious  in  such  matters,  that  the  same  had 
been  presented  on  the  interesting  occasion  of  his  benefit, 
and  performance  of  "  Octavian,"  by  a  few  admirers,  in 
testimony  of  his  great  worth  as  a  man,  and  his  imap- 
proachable  ability  as  an  artist. 

His  peculiarity  was  that  he  had  a  veneration  for  ancient 
tragedy,  which  nothing  could  subdue.  I  have  seen  him 
enact  "  Cato,"  in  the  play  of  that  name,  to  only  a  few 
shillings,  with  a  vigor  quite  astonishing !  But  to  our 
interview.  The  manager  admitted,  and  he  did  so  with 
great  regret,  that  his  business  was  not  at  that  time  profita- 
ble —  for  the  season  was  antagonistic  to  the  best  interests 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  29 

of  the  drama.  The  parliament  were  in  session  in  London, 
and  consequently  many  of  his  wealthy  patrons,  some  of 
whose  names  you  will  find  inscribed  here,  said  ho,  pushing 
the  pipe  towards  us,  were  attending  to  their  duties  as 
guardians  of  the  rights  of  their  constituents  ;  and  he  was 
farther  grieved  to  admit,  as  a  result  thereof,  that  his 
income  did  not  at  present  keep  pace  with  his  outlay ; 
therefore,  it  behoved  all  lovers  of  the  true  and  classic 
drama,  among  whom  he  was  proud  to  name  himself,  to 
put  their  shoulders  to  the  wheel,  in  order  to  propel  the 
dramatic  vehicle  into  the  haven  of  safety. 

He  was  exceedingly  fond  of  flattery  as  regarded  his 
position  as  a  manager  and  actor,  and  so  proud  of  being 
known  as  the  former,  that  he  invariably  caused  to  be 
printed  in  significant  type,  at  the  head  of  each  play-bill, 
"Sole  proprietor,  Mr. ," 

We  speedily  came  to  business.  He  did  want  artists, 
he  said,  with  a  strong  emphasis  on  the  last  word  ;  inquired 
what  we  could  do,  where  we  had  come  from,  and  what 
salary  we  expected  to  receive.  We  assured  him  that  we 
"were  in  possession  of  the  usual  modicum  of  talent  neces- 
sary for  the  most  faithful  delineation  of  any  and  every 
species  of  character,  within  the  range  of  the  ancient,  or 
modern  drama,  which  is  generally  the  impression  enter- 
tained by  novices,  in  a  profession  of  which  they  are  totally 
ignorant;  that  we  were  from  London — had  been  at 
Brighton  —  but  didn't  cai"e  much  about  effecting  an  en- 
gagement there,  had  preferred  seeing  him,  knowing  the 
interest  he  took  in  the  proper  cultivation  of  his  art,  and 
would  be  happy  to  place  ourselves  at  his  disposal,  with  a 
view  to  progressive  excellence,  which  we  were  satisfied 
could  no  where  be  so  well  and  efficiently  attained  as  at 
his  establishment,  and  under  his  personal  supervision. 
This  tickled  him  amazingly ;  he  laid  down  his  pipe  and 
gave  a  cough  that  had  a  tone  of  satisfaction  about  it.  As 


30  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

to  emolument,  we  left  that  entirely  to  him,  and  would 
readily  be  guided  by  his  better  and  more  mature  judg- 
ment, and  place  ourselves  at  once  at  his  disposal. 

The  bargain  was  speedily  completed  :  we  were  to  receive 
fifteen  shillings  sterling  per  week  each,  and  commence 
operations  at  once,  if  we  thought,  after  partaking  of  a 
little  refreshment,  we  could  manage  to  play  that  evening, 
we  would  extricate  him  from  a  most  embarrassing  dilem- 
ma. Of  course  we  could !  Could  I  play  "  old  Nerval," 
in  "  Douglas  ?"  and  "  Sir  Jacob  Jollop,"  in  the  "Mayor 
of  Garrat?"and  could  my  companion  go  on  for  "Lord 
Kandolph  ?  " 

My  vanity  felt  a  sudden  and  a  chilling  check  when  I 
heard  the  proposition !  "  Young  Norval,"  I  had  long 
believed  I  could  distance  all  competitors  in,  but  the  parent 
of  that  young  gentleman,  with  my  youthful  ardor  and 
juvenile  bearing,  was  a  blow  I  was  not  prepared  for. 

As  for  the  part  in  the  farce,  the  very  idea  made  me 
feel  as  if  I  had  swallowed  a  dose  of  his  namesake.  How- 
ever, I  was  compelled  to  yield,  and  after  partaking  of  the 
proposed  refreshments,  we  started  to  find  some  economic 
dwelling  place,  with  a  promise  to  be  prepared  for  action 
in  the  evening. 

The  appearance  of  the  theatre  was  somewhat  startling, 
being  extremely  primitive,  both  in  design  and  decoration. 
Four  walls,  or  sides,  there  were  to  be  sui-e ;  but  in  the 
auditorium,  one  end  seemed  to  have  had  a  piece  uncere- 
moniously lopped  ofi"  in  such  an  ungraceful  manner  that 
it  entirely  destroyed  its  identification  for  any  specific 
purpose.  It  was  spacious  enough  to  accommodate  a  very 
considerable  number  of  persons ;  but  either  the  merit  of 
the  performances  were  too  aesthetic  for  the  matter  of  fact 
inhabitants  of  the  district,  or  they  entertained  an  enmity 
towards  our  exertions,  and  remained  away  in  consequence. 
Certain  it  is,  its  capacity  for  large  numbers  was  never 
sorely  tested  by  the  generous  multitude. 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  31 

I  had,  prior  to  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  on  this,  our 
opening  niglit,  signified  to  the  manager  a  distaste  that  I 
should  be  called  upon  to  represent  a  character  very  much 
below  the  standard  of  histrionic  consequence  in  which  I 
felt  assured  nature  had  destined  me  to  occupy  amongst 
the  great  names  of  dramatic  history ;  but  was  somewhat 
appeased  by  the  knowledge  that  he,  the  manager,  had 
once  reduced  himself  to  a  secondary  position,  and  enacted 
"  Macduff,"  to  Edmund  Kean's  "  Macbeth,"  who  was  at 
the  time  playing  an  engagement  atone  of  his  city  houses, 
as  he  called  theatres  in  towns  of  any  magnitude,  and  this 
too  in  a  locality  where  he  was  well  known  and  appreciat- 
ed as  the  only  living  "  Thane  of  Cawdor,"  that  had  re- 
ceived the  unqualified  plaudits  of  an  audience,  distin- 
guished for  its  poetic  and  literary  attainments;  in  proof 
whereof  the  editor  of  the  Snifflebury  Chronicle^  a  writer 
with  a  mind  finely  tempered  to  the  impressions  of  the 
most  delicate  manipulations  of  art,  had  considered  the 
matter  of  such  vital  importance,  that  he  devoted  an  en- 
tire column  of  his  paper  to  an  analysis  of  the  two  inter- 
pretations of  the  character,  approving  Mr.  Kean's  rendi- 
tion in  many  places ;  but  for  subtlety  of  purpose,  with  a 
scholai'ly  delineation  of  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  part, 
yielded  the  palm  to  the  worthy  manager,  than  whom  no 
man  was  socially  and  professionally  nioi'e  respected. 

We  got  along  pretty  well  with  the  performance,  con- 
sidering that  we  didn't  know  the  words  of  the  author, 
but  substituted  something  of  our  own  when  we  were  at 
fault.  The  dressing-room  was  in  the  cellar  under  the 
dramatic  temple,  the  which  had  in  its  early  history  been 
used  as  a  malt-house,  and  was  still  tenanted  by  some  of 
its  original  settlers,  "  the  rats,"  who  must  have  keenly 
felt  the  altered  destinies  of  the  establishment. 

The  convenience  for  the  operations  of  the  toilet  were 
not  of  a  very  extensive  or  costly  description  ;  and  as  no 


32  POOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

member  of  the  company  boasted  the  possession  of  a 
mirror,  vye  painted  our  faces  over  a  bucket  of  clear  water. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  recount  a  tithe  of  the 
troubles  and  difficulties  that  the  tyro  in  the  dramatic  art 
had  to  pass  through  in  those  days,  and  it  might  appear 
strange  how  young  men  of  tolerable  education,  and  friends 
willing  to  assist  them,  as  many  of  us  had,  should  encoun- 
ter such  scenes ;  but  such  is  the  infatuation,  or  call  it 
what  you  will,  of  the  lovers  of  the  drama,  that  any  one 
of  us  would  have  passed  through  any  description  of  mis- 
ery, rather  than  our  friends  should  awake  to  the  convic- 
tion that  we  were  not  on  the  high  road  to  histrionic  ex- 
cellence. 

One  of  our  company  gave  us  the  following  anecdote 
that  had  occurred  in  his  presence  ;  and  as  it  will  affi^rd  a 
good  illustration  of  the  general  style  of  theatres  of  that 
class,  it  will  serve  as  a  fair  sample.     "  Chance  threw  me," 

said  he,   "  in  the  way  of  L ,  the  celebrated  strolling 

manager,  who  was  about  opening  at  Walton  in  Surrey. 
He  proposed  to  us  a  sharing  scheme,  with  the  stipulation 
of  two  shares  for  himself  as  manager.  This  wo  agreed 
to,  and  on  the  following  day  we  started  for  this  charming 
village,  and  the  hills  over  which  we  trudged  echoed 
again  with  the  speeches  we  expected  would  electrify  the 
good  people  of  Walton. 

"  The  appearance  of  the  theatre  rather  damped  our  ar- 
dor. It  was  nearly  outside  the  town,  in  a  very  tumble- 
downish  kind  of  a  barn,  in  the  yard  of  the  Plough  inn. 
The  way  to  the  stage  door  was  through  a  cow-yard,  and 
the  door  itself  was  a  hole  barely  three  feet  square,  cut  on 
purpose,  which  led  to  a  trap-door  that  brought  you  at 
once  on  the  upper  corner  R.  IT.  of  the  stage. 

"  The  stage  itself  was  about  eighteen  feet  wide,  eleven 
feet  long,  and  eight  feet  high.  The  proscenium  of  col- 
ored paper  took  off  five  feet  on  each  side,  so  that  the 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  33 

actual  stage  was  only  about  eight  feet  wide.  The  audi- 
ence part  was  very  dilapidated,  but  very  extensive, 
thronged  with  a  number  of  wide  seats,  and  parted  off 
into  pit  and  gallery  by  a  long  pole.  The  boxes  were  di- 
vided from  the  j^it  by  a  long  strip  of  canvas,  ornamented 
by  numerous  harps,  Apollos,  and  other  tasteful  designs,  il- 
lustrative of  the  muses.  The  foot-lights  consisted  of  ten 
dazzling  halos  of  tallow  candles,  eight  to  the  pound. 
The  scenes  were  painted  on  tick,  (I  mean  the  materials 
for  coloring  etc.  were  obtained  on  credit,)  and  they  con- 
sisted of  a  splendid  modern  chamber,  excessively  pink  in 
tone ;  on  the  reverse,  a  kitchen  equally  ingenious  in  color 
and'  design,  and  a  representation  of  a  wood  in  a  frantic 
state  of  exuberant  foliage,  laid  on  with  no  sparing  or 
niggardly  hand  upon  the  back  wall.  The  wings  were 
movable,  and  corresponded  with  the  proscenium ;  flies 
or  borders  we  had  none,  so  there  was  little  chance  of  the 
roof  taking  fire  from  the  carelessness  of  scene-shifters. 
It  was  light  and  airy  in  consequence  of  several  tiles  being 
missing.  The  orchestra  consisted  of  a  blind  fiddler,  a 
trumpet,  and  a  drum. 

"  After  working  for  about  a  week,  the  theatre  was  com- 
pleted, the  actors  perfect,  and  the  town  well  billed.  The 
opening  play  was  Richard  the  Third ;  the  night  arrived, 
and  the  house  was  full  to  overflowing. 

"  The  play  proceeded  quite  satisfactorily  till  the  fight,  in 
the  fifth  act,  between  Richard  and  Richmond.  In  con- 
sequence of  the  very  contracted  space,  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  pursue  the  combat  from  the  top  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  stage,  and  while  Richard  was  driving  Rich- 
mond up  with  a  splendid  show  of  head  blows,  he  (Rich- 
mond) suddenly  vanished  from  the  sight  of  Richard,  and 
the  audience. 

"  In  vain  did  the  crook-backed  tyrant  call  for  Richmond 
to  come  on,  if  it  was  only  to  kill  him.     No!  Richmond 
2* 


34  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

was  too  much  disconcerted  by  his  sudden  mishap,  and 
Richard  determined  not  to  be  cut  out  of  his  die,  cast 
himself  on  his  own  sword,  spoke  his  speech  and  expired. 
"  The  manager  of  whom  I  speak,  and  whose  description 
is  here  attempted,  was  a  man  of  the  most  liberal  prin- 
ciples, with  an  affection  for  his  company  that  amounted 
almost  to  parental  solicitude.  He  was  extremely  suscepti- 
ble to  grief,  therefore  was  often  the  victim  of  a  distress- 
ing recital,  related  for  no  other  jDur2:»ose  than  to  act  upon 
his  sympathetic  nature.  He  was  afflicted  with  periodical 
attacks  of  gout,  and  occasionally,  when  recovering  from 
that  distressing  malady,  would  imbibe  a  little  too  much 
stimulant ;  then  it  was  no  difficult  matter  to  deluge  him 
with  tears  with  a  well-timed  and  heart-rending  story. 
He  was  seated  one  evening  in  a  portion  of  the  building 
facetiously  termed  the  'green  room'  just  recovering 
from  one  of  his  attacks  of  gout,  and  had  evidently  in- 
dulged in  alcoholic  fluid  during  the  day.  The  j^lay  in 
course  of  representation  was  the  '  Stranger,'  at  which 
he  was  shedding  tears  most  copiously;  in  fact  he  was 
what  might  not  inaptly  be  termed,  'crying  drunk.' 
'  Good  heavens,'  said  I  '  Mr. can  anything  have  hap- 
pened?' 'No,'  said  he,  wishing  to  disguise  his  real  con- 
dition, 'but  I  am  always  thus  affected  whenever  that 
pathetic  piece,  the  "  Stranger,"  is  performed.'  '  Yes,'  said 
I, '  but  it  surely  cannot  distress  you  so  much  when  you  are 
not  witnessing  the  representation.'  '  What  does  that  mat- 
ter,' returned  he  bursting  out  into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears. 
'  Can't  I  conceive  what  is  going  forward  ?  ' " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  I  am  Sir  Oracle,  and  -when  I  ope  my  mouth  let  no  dog  bark." 

— Merchant  of  Venice.     Act  1.     Scene  1. 

The  aspirant  for  dramatic  fame  will  peruse  with 
Avonder,  not  unmixed  with  incredulity,  the  incidents  re- 
lated in  the  previous  chapters,  of  the  primitiveness  of  the 
places  set  apart  for  the  exposition  of  the  drama  in  Eng- 
land. There  is  scarcely  a  town  of  any  pretensions  in 
America,  that  is  not  well  provided  with  a  properly 
appointed  hall,  or  lecture  room,  with  ample  focility  for 
some  kind  of  dramatic  performance.  The  peculiarities 
of  some  of  the  members  of  their  several  companies  will 
appear  in  due  course  in  these  pages. 

The  successive  changes  consequent  on  the  attempt  to 
ascend  the  several  rounds  of  the  ladder  of  fame  in  every 
profession,  particularly  those  of  an  intellectual  character, 
bear  such  a  similarity  to  each  other,  that  it  would  be  a 
useless  task  to  enumerate  them  at  every  step  upward 
toward  the  goal  of  excellence  !  Therefore  the  author  of 
these  pages  may  be  pardoned  if  he  abstain  from  boring 
the  reader  with  every  little  incident  of  his  career,  except 
to  touch  upon  those  which  j^resent  features  of  a  nature 
peculiar,  or  in  any  way  unusual.  It  is,  however,  needless 
to  say,  that  the  life  of  an  actor  presents  a  very  dissimilar 
aspect  from  the  impression  entertained  of  it  by  the  public 
at  large.  To  the  auditor,  and  casual  ol>server,  it  is  an 
avocation  of  the  most  alluring  kind,  indeed  some  minds 
cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  believin  g  that  the  natures 


36  FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES. 

of  actors  and  actresses  assimilate  themselves  to  the 
peculiar  temperament  of  the  parts  they  represent. 

One  particular  instance  in  support  of  this  fact  was 
during  his  masterly  performance  of  Luke,  in  "Riches" 
by  Edmund  Kean.  A  lady  of  great  wealth,  who  had 
regularly  attended  all  that  fine  actor's  representations, 
became  so  appalled  by  the  hideousness  of  the  picture, 
that  she  immediately  took  a  distaste  for  the  man,  and  had 
a  codicil  inserted  in  her  will  rescinding  a  handsome  legacy 
she  had  bequeathed  him  as  some  acknowledgment  of 
the  pleasure  she  had  derived  from  his  previous  unap- 
proachable efforts. 

Many  of  the  drama's  patrons  are  fully  persuaded  in 
their  our  minds  that  the  hero  and  heroine  of  the  play 
have,  or  entertain  some  affinity  of  the  elements  towards 
each  other  they  so  graphically  express  in  their  profes- 
sional vocation.  It  is  needless  to  say  this  is  a  great  mis- 
take ;  indeed,  I  have  met  with  several  cases  where  the 
sexes  have  most  happily  commingled  professionally  their 
adoration  for  each  other;  but,  who  never  exchanged  the 
salutation  of  a  vocal  compliment,  from  a  settled  antipathy 
they  could  not  suppress.  True,  there  are  instances  where 
marriages,  and  a  long  life  of  happiness,  have  resulted  from 
such  an  association,  but  they  are  certainly  not  more 
frequent  than  might  arise  from  the  mixing  of  the  sexes 
in  any  other  close  proximity  of  business  necessity. 

THE  ORACLE  OF  THE  VILLAGE. 

Every  town,  village,  or  hamlet,  however  limited  its 
population,  can  proudly  boast  of  the  possession  of  some 
master  spirits  in  matters  of  art  and  politics,  the  former 
most  particularly,  who  exercise  an  influence  on  those  who 
surround  them  at  their  social  gatherings.  They  are  the 
oracles  who  proclaim  to  the  little  world  in  which  they 
move,  their  plan  for  the  amendment  of  the  constitution 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  37 

under  which  they  enjoy  their  proud  position  in  the  scale 
of  civilized  nations.  Who  regulate  the  quality  and 
number  of  ounces  avoirdupois  of  solid  food  necessary, 
upon  scientific  principles,  for  sustaining  the  pauper  popu- 
lation in  such  a  condition  as  will  inevitably  compel  them, 
in  order  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  exhausted  nature,  to 
pause  ere  they  accept  the  munificence  of  parish  accom- 
modation ! 

They  not  unfrequently  enjoy  the  proud  distinction  of 
having  the  pages  of  the  Meagreville  Gazette  placed  entire- 
ly at  their  disposal  in  all  matters  of  public  interest,  assign 
causes  for  the  conduct  of  officials  for  whose  jjositions 
they  have  been  unsuccessful  candidates;  and  readily  play 
the  jackal  to  assuage  the  sufiferings  of  some  wounded 
lion  who  has  been  draAvn  into  a  conflict  with  public 
oiDinion,  entirely  through  their  own  instrumentality. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  a  dramatic  company  who 
may  pay  brief  visits  to  one  or  other  of  these  j^laces,  can 
easily  escape  being  taken  under  the  special  care  of  one 
of  these  ogres,  whenever  opportunity  presents  itself. 
It  was  my  fortune  to  meet  with  a  capital  specimen,  at  a 
town  of  small  significance  in  the  county  of  Lancashire. 
He  was  a  good  type  of  the  class  who  desire  to  regulate 
the  internal  business  of  the  theatre  according  to  his  own 
infallible  dicta.  He  was  a  man  of  commanding  presence, 
a  brewer  by  trade,  and  had  once  seen  Mrs.  Siddons,  (in  the 
street.) 

The  party  consisted  of  the  brewer  above  named,  the 
postmaster  of  the  town,  the  tailor,  who  also  added  the  sta- 
tionery and  millinery  business,  (the  two  latter  presided 
over  by  his  wife,)  the  landlord  of  the  Goose  and  Gridiron, 
a  maltster  of  plethoric  pocket  and  person,  a  commercial 
traveller,  attached  to  a  London  glass  fii-m,  who  had  seen 
something  of  the  drama,  and  a  sallow-faced  man  who  act- 
ed as  parish  clerk  of  the  churcli,  and  who  was  chiefly  re- 


38  .  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

markable  for  extreme  baldness,  and  a  capacity  for  hot 
drinks. 

The  company  had  not  been  long  assembled  before  the 
Oracle  was  intruded  upon  in  the  middle  of  a  learned  dis- 
quisition on  a  past  political  crisis,  by  the  addition  of  the 
writer  and  the  gentleman  who  assumed  the  position  of 
principal  tragedian  to  the  theatre.  Our  presence  threw 
a  sudden  gloom  upon  the  scene,  but  the  Oracle  speedily  ral- 
lied, and  after  asking  a  common-place  question  or  two  rela- 
tive to  the  nature  of  the  patronage  bestowed  upon  our  ef- 
forts by  the  public  of  the  town  and  neighborhood,  pro- 
posed as  a  personal  obligation,  that  our  friend  should  fa- 
vor the  company  with  an  exhibition  of  his  vocal  powers. 
The  delineator  of  the  poet's  choicest  effusions  looked  with 
a  scornful  aspect  at  the  mention  of  such  a  profanation, 
and  gave  a  stern,  and  positive  refusal.  In  this  case  the 
tragedian  was  never  addicted  to  vocalization,  though  it  is 
not  an  uncommon  case  to  find  actors  of  the  serious  drama 
the  most  jovial  and  entertaining  in  social  gatherings. 

The  tailor  came  to  the  rescue,  and  expressed  the  pleas- 
ure he  had  derived  from  being  present  at  our  performance 
of  "  Venice  Preserved  "  the  previous  evening.  He  also 
attempted  an  analysis  of  the  representation  of  "  King 
Lear  "  he  had  once  seen  in  London  ;  though  he  couldn't 
tax  his  memory  with  the  name  of  the  theatre  in  which 
the  same  was  acted,  but  he  particularly  remembered  it 
from  the  desperate  conflict  in  the  very  last  scene  between 
the  King  and  a  man  in  armor  Avho  conquered  his  majesty, 
and  who  "didn't  make  his  aj^pearance  till  the  thing  was 
nearly  all  over;  he  also  considered  the  scene  very  good 
where  the  King  fancies  he  saw  the  daggers  hangino-  in 
the  air,  with  which  he  had  previously  killed  a  king  whose 
throne  he  wanted  to  occupy,  and  was  sadly  troubled  with 
a  guilty  conscience,  and  a  wicked  woman  for  a  wife. 
Proving  incontestibly  that  the  name  of  the  building  in 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  •  39 

which  he  beheld  this  multiplicity  of  events  transpire,  and 
the  incidents  connected  therewith,  was  not  very  clearly 
registered  upon  the  tablets  of  a  memory  distinguished 
for  its  reliability. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  Oracle,  "  the  drama  is  a  great  moral 
engine  for  the  advancement  of  the  human  species.  There 
are  some  pretty  keen  judges  of  good  playing  here,  sir,  I 
assure  you.  Indifferent  acting  may  do  for  London,  Liver- 
pool, or  Manchester,  but  I  can  tell  you  there  is  a  fine,  pure 
taste  for  the  proper  thing  in  this  town." 

"  Aye,"  chimed  in  the  parish  clerk,  he  believed  there 
was,  when  they  really  gave  'em  anything  good,  not  that 
he  had  ever  seen  much  of  tragedy  himself;  but  he  always 
made  one  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sniffin's  party,  and  took  charge 
of  two  of  the  children,  when  the  singers  with  their  faces 
blacked  came  along  ;  or  the  learned  dogs ;  and  a  pig  that 
could  spell  out  the  name  of  any  of  the  company,  which 
he  thought  was  very  clever,  and  seemed  to  afford  a  great 
deal  of  satisfaction. 

The  landlord  considered  the  downfall  of  the  drama  was 
to  be  attributed  to  the  vanity  of  actors,  who  thought  too 
much  of  what  they  called  position.  Now,  for  his  part,  he 
couldn't  see  what  difference  it  could  make  in  the  quality 
of  the  parts  they  played  ;  that's  what  he  had  always  been 
given  to  understand  by  what  he  had  read  in  the  papers, 
some  of  which  came  out  pretty  strong  upon  the  subject. 
One  case  he  recollected,  a  year  or  two  ago,  wherein  a 
manager  had  refused  to  pay  the  salary  of  a  member  of 
his  company  because  he  declined  to  appear  in  a  style  of 
character  for  which  he  was  not  engaged. 

The  Oracle  here  broke  iu  with — 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  a  notorious  fact,  and  I  explained  it  fully 
in  an  essay  I  did  some  three  or  four  years  since,  for  the 
Monthly  Gooseherrybush,  a  very  ably  edited  work  on 
fashion  and  the  arts.    I  had  hoped  to  have  broken  through 


40  POOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

the  absurdity,  for  the  article  was  very  elaborate,  and  em- 
braced all  the  points  of  the  subject  thoroughly,  and,  I  be- 
lieve, was  extensively  read,  but  it's  a  deeply  rooted  evil, 
sir,  and  will  take  a  long  time  to  eradicate." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  tragedian,  who  had  been  writhing 
for  some  minutes,  "  it  has  eicisted  for  some  time  —  if  we 
believe  the  press,  or  take  their  definition  of  a  matter 
which  doesn't,  to  my  thinking,  exactly  concern  them, — 
ever  since  the  time  of  Garrick,  who  refused  to  play  Hot- 
spur more  than  once,  because  he  found  Quin's  Falstaff 
eclipsed  him.  I  have  been  nearly  twenty  years,  sir,  in  the 
profession,  and  remember  very  few  instances  wherein  I 
have  not  been  dealt  unjustly  by,  by  the  manager.  I 
once  gave  great  offence,  because  I  declined  to  appear 
as  Harlequin  in  a  pantomime,  merely  to  gratify  his  desire 
to  have  my  name  in  the  bill  of  performance ;  the  press  of 
course  took  it  up,  and  my  private  business  soon  became  a 
matter  of  public  censure.  Very  few  can  realize  the  dis- 
crimination necessary  to  a  profitable  position  in  the  pro- 
fession. The  world  is  too  ready  to  condemn  an  actor 
who  objects  to  appear  in  characters  which  he  may  con- 
sider unfitted  for  his  style  or  temperament,  on  the  plea 
that  they  have  a  right  to  demand  that  the  plays  present- 
ed should  be  cast  in  the  strongest  possible  manner,  irre- 
spective of  the  claims  of  the  artist  to  his,  or  her,  definite 
position,  in  obedience  to  the  terms  of  their  agreement. 
I  am  satisfied  that  there  are  very  few  of  our  professional 
brethren  who  would  not  be  ready,  and  willing,  to  cheer- 
fully assist  in  the  representation  of  parts  out  of  their 
proper  calibre,  if  their  pecuniary  position  would  not  be 
affected  thereby  ;  but  when  it  is  notorious,  that  the  pay- 
ing portion  of  the  jDublic,  with  very  few  exceptions,  re- 
gard those  who  enact  the  prominent  characters  as  the 
most  talented  of  the  comj^any,  it  must  be  obvious  that 
a  system  such  as  this,  if  persevered  in,  would  soon  reduce 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  41 

the  market  value  of  the  individual,  who  would  thus  have 
to  sufier  for  the  perpetuation  of  a  principle  in  which  the 
manager  himself  is  never  ambitious  to  become  a  shining 
example. 

"  There  are  rules  and  forms  of  government  in  all  posi- 
tions of  life.  We  understand  those  appei'taining  to  our 
craft  as  well  as  the  physician,  the  lawyer,  or  the  printer  ; 
and  surely  no  one  would  expect  an  editor,  who  was  re- 
tained in  an  establishment  for  writing  leaders,  to  distribute 
copies  of  the  paper  to  the  several  subscribers.  Yet  this 
is  not  more  unreasonable  than  some  of  the  requests  fre- 
quently made  in  reference  to  us ;  nay  more,  we  are  even 
sometimes  elevated  to  the  dignity  of  a  partnership  when 
a  sacrifice  is  to  be  made  in  times  of  distress.  The  actors 
are  expected  and  compelled, —  or  quit  the  scene  of  their 
occupation,  which  they  are  seldom  able  from  lack  of  funds 
to  do, —  to  make  a  reduction  in  their  incomes  in  order  to 
shield  the  manager- from  loss;  but  the  business  unity 
never  extends  to  a  moiety  of  the  profits  in  times  of  com- 
mercial prosperity,  or  even  the  liquidation  of  a  previous 
defalcation.  This,  I  admit,  is  not  always  the  case  where 
managers  have  been,  or  are  themselves,  members  of  the 
profession,  but  with  those  who  embark  in  the  sale  of  the 
drama^  as  they  would  a  branch  of  trade,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  acquiring  means  ;  their  ignorance  and  selfishness 
is  akin  to  their  love  of  gain.  Why,  sir,  I  once  knew  a 
man  Avho  was  connected  with  a  profitable  theatre  in  the 
metropolis  of  the  country,  who  positively  refused  to  ac- 
cept a  play  tendered  him,  assigning  as  his  reason,  that  he 
didn't  like  it,  it  was  too  much  like  Shakspeare." 

The  traveller  here  expressed  his  belief  that  our  friend 
had  defined  his  position  in  a  thoroughly  business-like 
manner;  and  positively  refused  to  jjermit  the  subject  to 
be  further  discussed  till  he  had  done  himself  the  pleasure 
of  contributincc  towards  the  hilariousness  of  the  entertain- 


42  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

ment  by  becoming  responsible  for  a  repetition  of  bum- 
pers to  the  entire  party.  A  proposition  in  which  the 
landlord,  with  that  alacrity  for  which  his  class  are  dis- 
tinguished when  there  is  a  goodly  profit  to  be  acquired 
by  the  operation,  readily  concurred,  by  conforming  to  the 
request  with  an  amount  of  expedition  extremely  praise- 
worthy for  a  person  of  his  corporeal  capacity. 

"  There  is  a  point  that  has  always  puzzled  me,"  con- 
tinued the  traveller,  when  the  company  had  expressed 
their  acknowledgments  to  the  donor  of  the  feast,  "  I 
have  frequently  met  with  most  flattering  notices  of  per- 
sons of  whose  superior  ability  I  had  never  heard :  and 
when  I  have  seen  them  could  never  discover  a  scintilla- 
tion of  the  merit  the  gentlemen  of  the  press  had  led  me 
to  expect.  Now,  if  the  authors  of  these  puffs,  for  they 
are  nothing  less,  either  have  not  the  knowledge  of  the 
drama  necessary  to  write  a  sound,  and  scholarly  article 
upon  the  subject;  or  having  it,  do  not  exercise  it,  why 
will  they  always  assume  a  paramount  dictatorship  over 
the  actor  who  has  made  his  profession  a  matter  of  busi- 
ness and  study  for  years  ?  " 

"I  think  I  can  enlighten  you,  sir,  a  little  upon  that 
subject,"  said  the  tragedian,  just  as  the  Oracle  was  en- 
deavoring to  plunge  into  an  explanation. 

"Newspapers  have  frequently  a  job  printing  office  at- 
tached to  their  business,  and  many  persons  who  think  it 
desirable  to  try  their  fortunes  as  features,  or  stars,  as 
they  are  usually  termed,  are  very  liberal  in  their  patron- 
age ;  upon  the  principle  that  it  is  money  profitably  ex- 
pended, as  they  will  be  sure  to  get  lengthy  notices  in  the 
paper,  which  they  can  dispatch  to  the  next  town  or  city, 
prior  to  their  appearance  there.  They  will  even  carry 
their  system  to  such  an  extent  that  I,  myself,  knew  an 
instance  wliere  a  conscientious  reviewer,  who  knew  more 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  43 

than  the  ordinary  class  of  writers,  i-)ennecl  two,  or  three 
severe  articles  on  the  style  of  a  performance  he  consid- 
ered not  entitled  to  approval ;  when  he  was  met  by  a 
request  in  writing  from  the  injured  party  to  amend  his 
style  of  criticism,  as  they  had  claims  upon  the  establish- 
ment for  long  notices  of  the  most  eulogistic  character. 
Upon  declining  to  have  his  department  supervised  either 
by  right  or  intimidation,  he  was  met  by  the  proprietor 
of  the  paper,  who  readily  admitted  all  he  had  stated  in 
reference  to  the  worthlessness  of  the  performances,  that 
he  could  speak  from  personal  experience,  for  he  had  once 
sat  out  a  representation,  with  no  desire  to  repeat  the  in- 
fliction ;  '  but  we  receive  a  large  amount  per  annum  for 
printing  their  bills  and  posters,  it  is  a  good  advertisement 
for  us  apart  from  the  profit  we  derive,  because  it  exhibits 
our  work  in  distant  cities  and  places  where  it  would 
never  otherwise  be  seen  ;  therefore  all  we  can  do  is  to 
push  their  interest  in  every  way,  regardless  of  truth.' 
The  gentleman  was  obliged  to  retire  from  the  department 
which  treated  upon  theatricals,  rather  than  appear  to  in- 
dite what  he  knew  to  be  false." 

The  company  all  expressed  their  surprise  at  this  system 
of  conducting  business ;  and  the  tragedian  becoming, 
under  the  influence  of  argument,  more  and  more  sensi- 
tive to  the  cruel  acts  of  tyranny  and  injustice  levelled 
at  his  race,  cited  the  incident  of  Kean's  distress  at  some 
articles  in  a  London  paper  denunciatory  of  his  acti;ig,  to 
Mrs.  Garrick,  who  advised  him  to  spare  himself  the  paia 
of  any  annoyance,  and  for  the  future  to  do  as  David  did, 
i.  e.  "  write  the  notices  himself." 

"And  she  was  right,  gentlemen !  it  is  the  only  way  to 
haA'e  them  done  properly,  take  my  word  for  it." 

We  parted  with  the  Oracle,  whose  massive  mind  has 
doubtless  long  ere  this   bequeathed  to  an  admiring  pub- 


44  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES, 

lie  bis  views  of  the  base  ingratitude  of  two  members  of 
a  profession  he  bad  striven,  (with  a  devotion  abnost 
amounting  to  impiety)  to  elevate  in  the  scale  of  art  and 
social  usefulness,  but  whose  distaste  for  literary  guar- 
dianship have  placed  them  beyond  the  conviction  of  well- 
tried  exj^erience  and  intellectual  brotherhood. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

"  And  let  those  that  play  your  clowns  speak  no  more  than  is  set 
down  for  them." 

—  Hamht.     Act  3.     Scene  2. 

Stories  innumerable  are  told  of  serious  dilemmas 
into  wbich  comic  actors  are,  from  lack  of  numbers,  in 
small  companies,  occasionally  tbrust ;  but  we  know  of 
nothing  more  ludicrous  tban  the  following.  The  affair 
happened  some  time  prior  to  the  date  of  my  acquaintance 
with  its  hero,  but  among  all  the  extraordinary  beings  it 
has  been  my  lot  to  encounter  in  all  my  Thespian  wander- 
ings, none  certainly  exceeded  Berry,  "  facetious  Tom 
Berry." 

Berry  was  one  of  those  light-hearted  originals  that  oc- 
casionally cross  our  path  during  our  journey  through 
this  world  of  pleasures  and  disappointments  —  well  ed- 
ucated, but  of  an  unsettled  disposition.  He  embraced 
the  profession  of  tlie  stage  very  early  in  life.  His  first 
attempts  were  marked  with  tolerable  success ;  but  find- 
ing pi-actice  necessary,  he  was  very  properly  advised  by 
a  theatrical  friend  to  place  his  foot  upon  the  lowest  round 
of  the  ladder.  He  took  his  friend's  advice,  and  after 
much  trouble  accepted  an  engagement  at  the  Hayraarket 
Theatre,  London,  then  under  the  management  of  Morris, 
for  general  business. 

He  remained  there  six  seasons,  when  change  of  man- 
agement threw  him  on  his  own  resources.  This  was  in 
the  season  of  1836.  Barnet  of  the  Oxford  circuit  was  in 
London  engaging  a  company,  and  by  the  intercession  of 


46  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

some  friends  Berry  Avas  enrolled  in  his  corps,  to  make 
himself  useful  in  any  parts  he  might  be  called  upon  to 
play.  It  so  happened  that  Hamlet  was  the  piece  fixed 
U130U  for  the  opening  night,  the  part  of  the  Priest  by  fa- 
cetious Tom  Berry. 

It  was  a  great  misfortune  that  our  friend  never  could 
get  over  the  difficulties  of  blank  verse,  and  further,  a  much 
greater  misfortune  that  he  should,  when  he  had  any  to 
speak,  invariably  take  a  trifle  too  much  alcoholic  stimulant, 
with  a  view  to  keep  up  his  courage  for  the  event.  He 
was  fully  conscious  of  this  defect,  and  solicited  a  member 
of  the  company  to  give  him  the  words  from  the  side  scenes. 
On  his  first  ap^^earance  in  the  funeral  throng,  a  slight  un- 
easiness of  gait  in  walking,  and  a  swaying  of  the  body 
on  taking  his  j)osition  at  the  grave  of  the  drowned  Ophe- 
lia, could  be  easily  perceived,  though  this  might  have  pass- 
ed as  an  artist-like  delineation  of  the  infirmities  of  age. 
Plis  features,  naturally  extremely  comic,  were  on  this  oc- 
casion, "  screwed  to  the  sticking  place  "  of  solemnity,  al- 
though the  scalp  designating  the  "shaven  monk"  placed 
a  little  awry,  and  suffering  a  straggling  lock  to  escape, 
blended  with  the  vei-milion  intended  to  color  the  cheek, 
being  by  some  accident  communicated  to  the  extreme  tip 
of  the  nose,  slightly  deteriorated  from  that  expression. 

He  turned  his  head,  and  looked  imploringly  at  the  side 
from  whence  he  expected  to  be  supplied  with  the  words, 
while  his  friend,  book  in  hand,  keeping  faithful  to  his 
promise,  had  mixed  in  among  the  group  surrounding  the 
grave. 

"  Her  obsequies  have  been  so  far  enlarged  as  we  have 
warrant,"  whispered  the  prompter,  close  to  his  ear. 

"  Her  obsequies  are  large  enough,  I  warrant,"  com- 
menced the  Priest. 

Again  the  text  was  poured  into  his  ear  in  continuation. 

"  Her  death  was  doubtful." 


FOOTLIGUT    FLASHES.  47 

"  'Tis  doubtful  if  she's  dead,"  said  Torn,  now  wishing  to 
cut  the  matter  as  short  as  possible. 

The  prompter  proceeded  with — 

"  She  should  in  ground  unsanctified  have  lain  till  the 
last  trump — " 

"  She  should  not  trump  in  sanctified  ground,"  replied 
the  hero. 

"  Here  she  is  allowed  her  maiden  struments,"  shortly, 
and  rather  indistinctly  continued  the  j)rompter,  who  was 
now  getting  somewhat  angry  at  the  evident  hopelessness 
of  his  task. 

"  Here  she  is  allowed  her  pails  and  stew-pans,"  re- 
sponded poor  Berry,  who  had  caught  something  like  the 
sound,  but  not  the  sense  of  the  last  phrase.  This  was 
too  much.  Shouts  of  laughter  mingled  with  hisses,  now 
so  overcame  our  unfortunate  hero,  that  he  dropped  his 
book. 

"  Take  him  off,"  was  shouted  on  all  sides,  but  there 
was  no  necessity  for  that,  for  in  stooping  to  recover  the 
said  book,  he  suddenly  disappeared  as  if  by  magic,  from 
the  sight  of  his  indignant  j^atrons,  having  by  the  effort 
precipitated  himself  head  foremost  into  the  grave  of  the 
dead  Ophelia. 

The  curtain  fell  on  the  scene,  and  the  reader  may  rest 
assured  it  was  tlie  last  appearance  on  the  Ryde  boards 
of  "  facetious  Tom  Berry." 

"Whether  I  was  one  of  fortune's  favorites  I  know  not ; 
but  I  do  know  that  I  worked  "  most  vigorously  "  to  ad- 
vance my  professional  usefulness,  and  soon  rose  to  some 
amount  of  jDrominence.  I  had  to  play  anything  and 
everything.  As  a  proof  of  this,  I  may  instance  that 
while  attached  to  the  Kent  circuit,  I  played  in  one  eve- 
ning the  characters  of  Banquo,  and  Hecate  in  Macbeth, 
and  sang  all  the  music.  In  Hamlet,  I  had  to  do  duty 
for  Polouius,  the  Ghost,  Osric,  and  the  first  Grave  Dig- 
ger. 


48  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Managerial  Wives. 

I  have  often  asked  myself  the  question,  why  managers, 
dramatically,  have  wives  !  Domestically,  I  am  willing  to 
admit  they  are  as  much  entitled  to  that  coveted  luxury  as 
the  members  of  any  other  profession  or  calling,  but  in  a 
business  point  of  view  they  are,  save  in  very  rare  excep- 
tions, institutions  of  a  grave,  and  serious  import. 

I  adore  the  sex  in  general,  and  our  wife  in  particular. 
But  if  ever,  for  some  unatoned  crime  committed  in  my 
boyish  frivolity,  I  should  be  consigned  to  that  pandemo- 
nium of  dramatic  life,  the  "  managerial  throne,"  and  the 
partner  of  my  bosom  exhibited  the  slightest  propinquity 
for  the  buskin,  I  should,  without  the  smallest  compunc- 
tion of  conscience,  retain  the  most  skillful  in  legal  mani- 
pulations, with  the  benign  determination  of  dissolving  the 
nuptial  tie. 

I  say  this  unhesitatingly,  because  I  am,  and  ever  have 
been,  opposed  to  all  feuds,  whether  domestic,  dramatic 
or  editorial,  and  as  one,  or  all  these  would  be  the  inevi- 
table consequence  of  my  wife's  embracing  the  stage,  I 
would,  as  I  desire  to  exist  in  the  most  perfect  amity 
with  all  mankind,  much  prefer  that  such  an  ebullition 
of  affection  should  be  monopolized  by  myself  without  let 
or  hindrance  of  any  kind  whatsoever. 

These  reflections  have  forced  themselves  most  uncere- 
moniously upon  my  cogitations,  as  I  look  back  to  the 
drudgery  of  my  novitiate  when  I  formed  one  of  a  com- 
pany in  the  west  of  England,  the  manager  of  whom  had 
a  wife,  whose  chief  diversion  seemed  to  be  to  convince 
her  husband  of  the  great  sacrifices  she  had  made  when, 
in  an  outburst  of  virginly  magnanimity,  she  bestowed  up- 
on him  the  honor  of  her  hand.  Such  is,  however,  the 
extreme  selfishness  of  human  nature,  that  the  fortunate 
possessor  of  the  treasure  evidently  took  a  different  esti- 
mate of  its  value. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  49 

The  field  of  action  in  which  this  lady  distinguished 
herself,  prior  to  her  entrance  into  marital  array,  was  a 
seminary  for  the  instruction  of  young  persons  in  all  the 
polite  accomplishments  indispensable  for  their  advent 
into  the  social  circle  ;  and  it  was  during  her  espionage  of 
the  said  charges  at  the  theatre  of  the  locality  in  which  they 
studied,  that  her  heart  was  made  captive  by  its  present 
owner,  while  he  was  engaged  in  the  representation  of 
Romeo.  The  most  full-blown  amongst  the  young  la- 
dies was,  on  retiring  on  that  eventful  night,  admitted 
into  her  confidence  and  sworn  to  secrecy,  and  in  little 
less  than  three  months  had  the  honor  of  assisting  at  a 
surreptitious  marriage  ceremony,  in  addition  to  three 
professional  associates  of  the  hero  of  the  adventure,  who 
had  been  expressly  chartered  for  the  purpose. 

The  most  casual  observer  could  easily  credit  the  fact, 
so  often  referred  to,  that  at  that  period  of  her  history  the 
lady  was  physically  presentable  for  the  adoption  of  the  pro- 
fession she  was  not  slow  to  enter;  but  it  did  so  fill  out 
that  the  embodiment  of  the  principal  female  characters 
in  the  works  of  the  best  authors  required  some  initiatory 
experience,  which  she,  in  the  excess  of  her  vanity,  never 
seemed  to  contemplate ;  and  if  at  any  time,  the  which 
frequently  happened,  an  unlucky  contributor  to  the 
weekly  paper,  in  an  insane  desire,  as  he  imagined,  to 
manifest  his  affection  for  the  progress  of  art,  should  deli- 
cately suggest  that  the  wife  of  our  worthy  manager  was 
scarcely  up  to  the  mark  for  the  rendition  of  Queen  Cath- 
erine, such  a  character  requiring  a  depth  of  thought  and 
intensity  of  expression  not  usually  possessed  by  a  lady 
whose  forte  lay  in  the  exposition  of  soubrettes  of  a  viva- 
cious nature,  the  unfortunate  husband  was  compelled  to 
place  himself  in  instant  communication  with  the  propri- 
etors of  the  journal  that  had  "thus  gone  out  of  its  way 
to  offer  violence  to  a  sensitive  lady's  feelings,"  at  the  same 
3 


50  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

time  insinuating  tiiat  if  the  delinquent  correspondent 
again  exhibited  such  unheard  of  malevolence,  he,  the 
manager,  would  be  compelled  to  withdraw  his  ad- 
vertisements, and  furnish  his  establishment  with  pro- 
grammes of  the  entertainments  from  the  office  of  the  ri- 
val journalist  over  the  way. 

The  very  desirable  advantage  of  youth  and  beauty, 
our  heroine  had  no  respect  or  sympathy  for  whatever ; 
indeed,  the  i:)OSsession  of  either  of  these  pleasing  qualifi- 
cations was,  in  her  estimate,  rather  an  objection  than 
otherwise ;  in  proof  of  which  she  declared  instant  war- 
fare with  any  lady  who  could,  by  her  personal  attractive- 
ness on  the  stage,  secure  the  approval  of  the  public,  and 
should  she  add  to  her  enormity  by  presuming  to  obtain 
an  encore  for  a  song,  a  gentle  shaking  was  the  certain 
result,  as  a  just  and  proper  penance  for  such  a  flagrant 
act  of  improjjriety. 

It  may  very  readily  be  supposed  that  the  theatre  over 
which  this  ogress  presided,  was  no  very  agreeable  place 
for  one  of  the  female  gender  under  such  a  course  of  tutor- 
age. Resignations  were  in  consequence  not  vmfrequent ; 
every  secession  invoking  the  pretended  ire  of  the  very 
person  who  had  been  the  sole  cause  of  its  consummation. 

This  antagonism  arose  from  the  serious  conviction  the 
good  lady  entertained,  that  the  juvenile  heroines  of  com- 
edy or  tragedy  could  find  no  such  fitting  representative 
as  herself;  for  even  her  increasing  age  and  rotundity  of 
form  failed  in  dispelling  the  pleasing  delusion.  Should 
she  be  now  in  existence,  we  feel  assured  she  still  clings 
tenaciously  to  the  hallucination. 

Alas,  poor  lady !  she  is  but  one  amongst  the  many  of 
both  sexes  who  ignore  the  potency  of  that  universal  lev- 
eller. Time  !  and  who  prefer  to  exist  upon  the  delicate 
disguise  of  stubborn  facts. 

It  is  well  to  bear  kindly  with  these  weaknesses!  it  is 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  51 

exciting  to  be  button-holed  by  one  who  was  once  the 
heau  ideal  of  the  man  of  fashion  and  faultless  symmetry 
ou  the  stage,  and  who  has  just  had  his  feelings  deeply 
lacerated  by  the  receipt  of  an  offer  from  a  manager,  who 
would  like  to  avail  himself  of  his  services  for  the  ensu- 
ing season,  to  take  charge  of  the  representation  of  the 
heavy  fathers  of  the  ponderous  drama. 

In  the  seclusion  of  private  life,  it  would  be  well  the 
world  should  know,  that  however  intoxicated  with  the 
success  of  their  early  career,  there  are  many  not  unlike 
the  wife  of  our  manager  here  represented,  whose  charity, 
in  its  quiet,  unobtrusive  delicacy,  has  shed  a  cheering  ray 
of  atonement  for  years  of  professional  vanity,  and  whose 
memory  may  occupy  a  niche  in  the  kindly  remembrance 
of  many  a  grateful  heart. 

THE    PHEJfOMENON'. 

In  the  year  1837,  I  was  a  member  of  a  company  in 
Kent,  presided  over  by  a  gentleman  who,  with  his  daugh- 
ter, has  been  photographed  by  a  great  waiter,  presenting 
as  he  never  fails  to  do,  a  most  pleasing  and  droll  por- 
traiture ;  but  in  no  single  instance  is  this  like  the  originals. 
This  must  have  arisen  from  the  author's  reliability  upon 
the  representations  of  others,  without  availing  himself 
of  the  facilities  for  personal  observation. 

'Twas  here  that  I  first  heard  that  most  popular  of 
comic  songs,  "  Jim  Crow,"  not  by  my  dear  old  friend 
"  Daddy  Rice,"  but  warbled  by  the  Phenomenon. 

There  was  a  ponderous  attempt  at  grandeur  about  the 
parent  of  the  novelty  above  named,  that  had  for  its  object 
a  desire  to  impress  the  company  with  its  great  magnifi- 
cence, but  which  generally  had  a  contrary  effect. 

It  was  a  custom  to  give  single  performances  at  adjacent 
towns  on  the  off  play  nights ;  which  the  choice  spirits  of 
the   company  used  to  designate  the  "  Waterspout  perfor- 


52  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

mances "  so  called  from  the  fact  that  the  scenes  used  in 
the  representation  were  so  constructed  they  would  pack 
into  a  long  box,  which  receptacle,  when  emptied  of  its 
contents,  was  placed  across  the  front  of  the  stage,  and 
formed  a  very  good  temporary  float-light  guard. 

We  made  a  foray  into  the  town  of  Ashford,  and  took 
possession  of  the  hall  wherein  all  the  public  business 
appertaining  to  the  place  and  neighborhood  was  conduct- 
ed. It  was  a  large  room,  with  poi'traits  of  celebrities  who 
had  devoted  the  best  energies  of  their  parochial  nature 
to  the  perpetuity  of  measures  for  the  welfare  of  their 
fellow  townsmen,  and  whose  facial  monuments,  albeit 
not  rendered  in  a  flattering  aspect  by  the  artists  who 
had  handed  them  down  to  posterity,  glared  out  uj^on  you 
with  a  severity  which  impressed  you  with  the  conviction 
that  you  were  on  trial  for  some  heinous  offence,  and  need 
expect  no  mercy  at  their  hands. 

It  was  well  lighted  with  oil  lamps,  and  capable  of 
seating  one  thousand  persons  without  much  inconvenience. 
We  boasted  not  of  raised  platform,  or  stage ;  the  box 
before  mentioned  divided  the  actors  from  the  audience, 
while  draperies  of  various  colors  filled  the  spaces  between 
the  canvas  proscenium,  and  the  walls.  The  pieces  for 
the  evening's  entertainment  Avere  the  tragedy  of  Doug- 
las, a  song  and  dance,  and  the  farce  of  Popping  the 
Question.  The  manager  j^layed  Glenalvan;  his  wife, 
Lady  Randoljih ;  the  Phenomenon,  young  Nerval ;  and 
the  writer,  old  Nerval.  The  Highland  fling  between 
the  pieces,  by  the  exotic,  who  also  enacted  one  of  the  old 
maids  in  the  farce. 

The  attendance  was  very  good,  and  the  performance 
satisfactory,  but  when,  at  its  conclusion,  we  were  about  to 
depart,  the  conveyance  in  which  we  had  made  our 
triumphal  entry  into  the  town  was  no  whereto  be  found  ; 
after  considerable  delay  it  was  discovered  locked  up  in 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  53 

the  churchyard,  and  no  one  could  find  the  key.  We  had 
another  temporary  attachment  for  a  hotel  beauty  here, 
and  were  rather  pleased  at  the  delay  than  otherwise. 

The  performances  were  under  the  patronage  of  the 
"  Chummy,  and  Fish  Clubs  "  a  bill  of  which  is  before  us 
as  we  write.  The  manager  impressed  the  public  in  every 
town  he  visited,  with  the  belief  that  Edmund  Kean  had, 
in  a  burst  of  admiration  for  his  daughter's  ability,  present- 
ed her  with  what,  iu  theatrical  parlance,  was  called  a 
battlefield  hat;  whereas  the  true  story  was,  "that  the 
identical  head  gear  was  found  among  some  odds  and 
ends  in  the  property  room  of  the  Richmond  (Surry) 
Theatre,  and  its  ever  having  been  worn  by  the  great 
tragedian,  was  at  best  doubtful ! " 

I  allude  to  these  peculiarities  of  gaining  popularity  m 
no  spirit  of  spleen,  or  mischievous  desire  to  cast  a  stigma 
of  any  kind  upon  the  talent  of  a  lady  who  has  most  de- 
servedly risen  to  the  highest  point  of  dramatic  ex- 
cellence. No  one  cherishes  a  greater  regard  for  her  than 
he  who  now  alludes  to  a  single  instance  only,  of  a  career 
that,  by  clever  business  management  during  its  nonage, 
planted  the  seeds  that  have  since  blossomed,  and  present- 
ed to  an  admiring  world  the  most  luscious  products  of 
the  Thespian  garden. 

A  heavy  calamity  has  lately  befallen  this  distinguished 
actress.  A  few  years  since  she  quitted  the  sphere  of 
professional  greatness,  and  bestowed  her  hand  and  heart 
upon  a  brave  and  gallant  soldier.  Now  the  nation 
mingles  its  sorrow  with  the  bereaved  widow  for  the  loss 
of  him  who,  in  the  pride  of  manhood,  yielded  his  life  to 
sustain  the  honor  of  his  country. 

After  many  years,  when  fortune  had  not  been  a  niggard 
with  her  gifts,  I  met  the  father  of  the  subject  of  these 
remarks  in  London,  and  he  remembered  me  with  much 
gratification  ;  which  is  not  always  the  case  with  many 


54  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

who  recoil  with  horror  at  a  retrospect  of  the  days  when 
the  season's  exertions  would  terminate,  and  leave  their 
exchequer  in  so  needy  a  condition  that  a  pedestrian  expe- 
dition became  a  matter  of  absolute  necessity. 

After  one  or  two  attempts,  at  divers  places,  similar  to 
those  recounted  in  the  preceding  chapters,  where  I  dis- 
tinguished myself  in  (as,  I  then  believed)  the  rendition  of 
the  heroes  of  tragedy,  I  took  flight  to  Nottingham,  where 
I  commenced  the  assumption  of  aged  characters,  in  the 
part  of  Adam  Winterton.  This  was  in  the  month  of  June, 
1836.  My  stay  here  was  very  brief,  for  in  the  month  of 
September  of  the  same  year  I  received  an  offer  for  the 
Queen's  Theatre,  London,  where  I  made  my  Metropoli- 
tan bow  in  the  Baron  of  Oatland  in  the  opera  of  the 
Haunted  Tower.  Mrs.  Waylet,  George  Stausbury, 
My.  Manvers,  and  Mr.  Conquest  were  in  the  cast.  I 
played  Simpson  in  Simpson  &  Co.,  Sir  Peter  Teazle, 
and  many  parts  of  a  like  nature  to  the  jDopular  Mrs.  Nes- 
bit,  and  remained  a  member  of  the  company  till  the  close 
of  the  speculation,  when  I  removed  to  the  Victoria, 
where  I  speedily  discovered  the  fallacy  of  remaining  in 
London  with  my  then  limited  experience,  and  departed 
for  Worthing,  in  Sussex,  in  August  1838,  from  thence  to 
Sheffield  and  Doncaster  with  Hammond,  Reading  with 
Barnet,  and  Bristol  with  Mi's.  Macready,  the  step-mother 
of  the  great  tragedian. 

While  at  Sheffield  I  may  recount  an  act  of  assurance  I 
committed  which,  for  effrontery,  has  seldom  been  excelled. 

It  happened  that  the  celebrated  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wood, 
the  vocalists,  were  announced  to  sing  La  Somnambula, 
but  on  the  morning  of  the  expected  production  of  the 
opera,  the  gentleman  who  was  to  perform  the  part  of  the 
Count  Rodolpho,  was  taken  with  a  severe  attack  of 
sickness,  and  compelled  to  keep  his  bed.     What  was  to 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  55 

be  done  ?  The  box  list  was  full,  and.  to  substitute  another 
opera  would  give  great  cause  for  dissatisfaction.  It  took 
j'eiy  little  persuasion  to  induce  me  to  try  to  get  through 
it;  and,  with  the  leader  of  the  orchestra,  worked  at  the 
score  all  the  afternoon  so  satisfactorily,  that,  when  the 
evening  came  I  received  two  encores  ;  and,  with  the  aid 
of  Mr.  Wood,  who  gave  me  all  the  starting  notes  of  the 
several  solos  in  the  second  act  from  behind  the  curtains 
of  the  bed,  got  along  in  a  way  that  seemed  to  aflbrd  per- 
fect satisfaction  to  a  densely  packed  house,  and  repeated 
the  part  on  two  or  three  subsequent  occasions. 

In  1840,  I  went  to  Norwich,  Yarmouth,  Cambridge, 
Bury  St.  Edmund's,  Ipswich,  Colchester  and  Lynn. 
These  several  towns  formed  one  of  the  most  delightful 
circuits  that  can  be  well  imagined.  Though  so  many 
years  have  passed,  I  look  back  to  that  happy  period  of 
my  career  with  feelings  of  pleasure  and  delight.  The 
Norwich  circuit  was  celebrated  for  its  matrimonial  at- 
tacks upon  the  members  of  the  dramatic  company  both 
male  and  female,  therefore  I  am  not  rep)reheusible  for 
being  caught  in  its  toils  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's  on  the  30th 
Nov.  184:'2.  Indeed,  so  contented  am  I  to  bear,  with  un- 
complaining fortitude,  the  penalty  of  my  rashness,  that  I 
seriously  recommend  all  youthful  dramatic  artists  to  em- 
igrate there,  in  the  hope  that,  should  they  connubialize, 
(which  almost  amounts  to  a  certainty,)  they  may  be  as 
fortunate  as  I  was  in  the  selection  of  a  partner,  who  by 
unwavering  faithfulness  to  her  domestic  mission,  has  il- 
lumined the  dark  horizon  of  professional  turmoil ;  and 
shed  a  cheering  influence  of  content  and  happiness  upon 
all  around  her. 

In  1842,  Mr.  Robert  Roxby  became  the  manager  of 
the  Theatre  Royal,  Manchester.  The  principal  members 
of  the  company  consisted  of  S.  Butler,  C.  D.  Pitt,  D.  W. 
King,  (Tenor),  Munyard,  J.  Jonstone,  Woolgar,  C.  Bass, 


56  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

C.  F.  Marshall,  R.  Roxby,  Bellingham  J.  Howard,  Bar- 
hani,  W.  Grisdale,  Miss  S.  J.  Woolgar,  Miss  Walcott, 
Miss  Angel,  etc.  etc.  and  Mr.  W.  Davidge. 

In  1844,  the  Manchester  Theatre  was  destroyed  by  fire. 
I  went  to  Brighton,  and  at  the  end  of  the  season  to  Ed- 
inboro',  where  I  found  E.  Glover,  Lester  Wallack,  Leigh 
Murray,  Couldock,  Ray,  Parselle,  Mackay,  G.  Honey, 
Lloyd,  J.  Moore,  Miss  Nicoll,  Miss  Macready,  etc.  etc. 

I  received  the  kindest  consideration  from  the  Scotch 
critics,  as  well  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital  city  j  and 
quitted  the  scene  of  my  labors  to  return  to  Manchester, 
for  the  opening  of  the  new  theatre  in  September,  1845, 
having  previously  made  ray  first  visit  to  Plymouth  in 
August,  where  I  met  the  Misses  Cushman. 

During  the  vacation  of  1847, 1  played  an  engagement  at 
the  Queen's  Theatre,  Dublin,  where  the  production  of 
"  The  Fair  One  with  the  Golden  Locks,"  with  other  light 
pieces  of  a  similar  character,  afforded  an  opportunity  of 
my  being  seen  to  some  advantage,  and  was  a  source  of 
great  profit  to  the  management. 

The  following  year  I  made  a  second  visit  to  Dublin, 
with,  I  am  pleased  to  say,  the  same  satisfactory  result. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  exteme  length  to  which  pre- 
judice or  caste  could  in  those  days  affect  an  actor,  I 
remember  meeting  the  lessee  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  who 
inquired  if  I  could  recommend  the  name  of  a  comedian  I 
considered  sufficiently  up  to  the  mark  to  suit  the  patrons 
of  his  establishment.  I  thought  for  a  moment,  and  rec- 
ollected I  had  lately  seen  at  the  Grecian  Saloon  in  Lon- 
don, a  gentleman  who  would  be  precisely  the  person  he 
wanted. 

"What's  his  name  ?  "  said  the  manager. 

"  Robson,"  said  I. 

"Robson  !  "  echoed  he  ;  "  where  did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  At  the  Grecian  Saloon,"  I  replied. 


POOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  57 

"Ugh  !  wouldn't  have  him  if  he'd  come  for  nothing !" 

Since  the  date  of  the  above,  Mr.  Robson,  prior  to  his 
death,  rose  to  the  highest  grade  in  London,  and  able  re- 
viewers claimed  for  him  a  j)osition  as  an  artist  second 
only  to  Bouflfe,  of  the  French  stage, 

I  have  seen  the  time,  now  happily  past,  when  an 
actor  of  either  of  the  patent  theatres,  as  Covent  Garden 
and  Drury  Lane  were  then  termed,  would  with  reluc- 
tance address  a  brother  professional  who  might  be  em- 
ployed at  an  establishment  not  legally  entitled  to  that 
proscriptive  distinction.  The  Hon.  T.  Duncombe  broke 
down  this  barrier,  when  he  introduced  his  bill  permitting 
the  representation  of  the  standard  drama  at  every  thea- 
tre, without  distinction  of  caste.  Whether  the  drama  as 
an  art,  by  being  deprived  of  its  surroundings,  has  been 
benefitted  thereby,  is  a  question  I  am  not  disposed  to 
discuss  in  this  place. 

Mr.  Robson  died  in  London,  much  regretted,  on  the 
Uth  of  August  1864,  aged  43. 


CHAPTER  yill. 

"  A  merrier  man, 
Within  the  limits  of  becoming  mirth, 
I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal." 

— Love's  Labor  Lost.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

A  CONSECUTIVE  chain  of  events  form  no  part  of  my 
j)m"pose  in  these  pages,  neither  do  I  propose  to  solicit  the 
company  of  ray  patient  readers  through  engagements  at 
places  where  the  styles  of  people  are  merely  a  reflex  of 
those  met  with  before ;  but  shall  in  pursuance  of  this  in- 
tention, pay  little  regai'd,  if  any,  to  data,  but  present  the 
"  Footlight  Flashes "  from  the  crucible  of  memory  in 
such  a  manner  as  will  produce  the  most  luminous  and 
pleasing  eifect. 

Long  ere  I  became  a  professional  actor  I  beguiled  my 
leisure  evenings  with  a  probationary  element  of  the  drama 
at  an  amateur  theatre  in  Catherine  street,  Strand,  Lon- 
don ;  a  nursery  from  whence  many  of  the  brightest  lights 
which  .now  adorn  the  histrionic  art  first  passed  through 
the  trying  ordeal  of  facing  the  enemy  in  the  auditorium ; 
a  more  difficult  task,  I  am  advised  by  those  skilled  in  the 
science  of  warfare,  than  encountering  your  antagonist  in 
the  din  and  dcathful  clamor  of  the  battle  field. 

BEN  SMTTHSON,  THE  DRAMATIC  AGENT. 

Some  of  my  professional  brethren,  for  there  are  a  few 
in  America  now,  (1866)  who  graduated  there,  will  recol- 
lect with  feelings  of  respect  Ben  Smythson,  the  dramatic 
agent  who,  for  several  years,  leased  the  theatre  for  the  pur- 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  59 

pose  of  amateur  performances.  Ben  was  a  retired  actor 
who  had  once  held  a  fine  position  in  Ireland  when  the 
great  Talbot,  the  light  comedian,  was  in  his  zenith.  He 
was  a  man  of  much  information,  and  geniality  of  manner, 
very  grandiloquent  in  conversation,  and  totally  regard- 
less of  his  personal  appearance,  in  the  matter  of  costume. 

He  had  a  wife  of  herculean  mould,  and  a  constantly  in- 
creasing family  of  children,  all  of  whom  are  now  in  good 
positions  in  music  and  the  drama.  Prior  to  his  tenancy 
of  the  place  above  mentioned,  he  kept  a  tavern,  a  gener- 
al resort  for  all  actors  who  were  seeking  engagements, 
and  who  congregated  there  to  possess  themselves  of  all 
the  current  news  of  the  day. 

Mrs.  S.  had  but  recently  presented  her  lord  and  mas- 
ter with  the  customary  annual  offering,  when  I  did  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  calling  for  the  jDurpose  of  expressing 
my  congratulations  on  the  event  of  an  increase  to  the 
family  significance ;  and  expressed  a  hope  that  the  off- 
spring, with  its  mother,  were  progressing  fovorably,  at 
which  he  placed  himself  in  a  pantomimical  attitude,  "  a 
la  Don  Juan,"   and  began — 

Tum^  te  turn.,  te  turn  te  turn,  turn,  te  te  te  te,  tiddle  turn 
te  turn  te  turn  te  turn  te  turn  ! 

The  last  sentence  brought  him  into  a  final  and  impos- 
ing position,  with  his  right  hand  extended,  and  pointing 
to  a  large  placard  over  the  bar  door,  on  which  was  Avrit- 
ten  in  capitals,  for  the  benefit  of  all  enquirers. 

"  The  hostess  and  her  offspring  are  as  loell  as  can  be  ex- 
i:)ectedr 

His  pompous  style  was  well  exemplified  on  one  particu- 
lar occasion.  Calling  to  indulge  in  a  cup  of  coffee,  the 
following  dialogue  took  place. 

W.  .Z>.  "  I  think  I'll  take  a  cup  of  coffee,  Ben,  if  you 
l)lease." 

Ben.  "  Certainly,  my  boy.  (^Opening  a  door  leading 
to  the  kitchen.)     Rosabella." 


60  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Servant.     {In  the  extreme  distance.)     "  Yes,  sir." 

Ben.    "A  vase  of  the  sedative." 

W.  D.     "  Won't  you  take  one  ?  " 

Hen.  "  Thank  you, my  hoy,  I  will."  {Turning  to  us,) 
Do  you  take  sugar  ?  " 

W.  Z>.    If  you  please." 

J^eti.  Rosabella.  Two  vases  of  the  sedative,  one  with 
the  saccharine,  and  one  without." 

Great  men  in  whatever  way  distinguished,  have  at  all 
times  a  peculiar  charm  for  the  youthful  mind ;  and  in  no 
case  more  evident  than  in  contemplating  the  performance, 
or  presence  of  a  great  actor. 

Though  mournful  the  occasion,  I  can  well  remember  be- 
ing in  the  midst  of  a  galaxy  of  the  greatest  names  asso- 
ciated with  the  London  stage. 

In  the  year  1831,  died  the  most  perfect  actress  of  her 
time,  the  unapproachable  Siddons;  she,  before  whose 
youthful  efforts  even  Garrick  quailed.  The  concourse  of 
mourners,  and  the  aspect  of  woe  each  countenance  wore, 
bore  ample  testimony  to  the  position  the  lost  one  had 
occupied  in  the  public  esteem ;  while  the  numerous 
representatives  of  her  family,  from  the  classic  and  elegant 
gentleman,  Charles  Kemble,  to  the  most  accomplished 
of  dramatic  managers,  William  Murrey  of  Edinburgh, 
poured  out  their  grief  as  an  offering  of  regret  to  the 
social  excellence  of  the  departed. 

Similar  emotions  impressed  me  when,  two  years  later, 
Edmund  Kean  was  summoned  to  "  another,  and  a  bet- 
ter world "  and  the  town  of  Richmond,  in  Surry,  paid 
the  last  tribute  to  the  matchless  tragedian,  by  suspending 
its  daily  avocation,  and,  in  company  with  sorrowing 
spirits  from  afar,  mingling  their  tears  of  anguish  for  a 
nation's  loss. 

The  former  of  these  world-renowned  artists  I  never  saw ; 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  61 

with  the  latter's  acting  I  was  perfectly  familiar.  I  have 
decamped  from  the  paternal  roof  with  the  certainty  of  a 
sound  thrashing  and  the  deprivation  of  my  evening  meal 
wlien  I  returned,  to  see  the  great  actor  in  his  several 
parts.  I  have  been  rammed,  jammed,  and  trodden  upon, 
till  I  became  callous  to  consequences,  waiting  to  obtain  an 
entrance  into  the  gallery  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  I 
have  watched  for  him  in  the  streets  for  hours;  have 
folloAved  his  carriage,  have  jumped  up  behind  it,  and  been 
most  ignominiously  cut  down  by  the  coachman's  whip. 
But  my  jSrst  practical  and  demonstrative  acquaintanceship 
was  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  where  by  virtue  of  the  favor 
of  Tom  Cooke,  the  leader  of  the  orchestra,  I  managed  to 
intrude  behind  the  scenes.     There  I  received  my 

FIRST   IMPRESSION   OF   EDMUND    KEAN. 

At  the  time  of  this  adventure,  the  actor  was  at  the 
meridian  of  his  professional  glory.  Not  to  have  seen 
him  in  his  most  jDOwerful  and  unapproachable  delinea- 
tions would  have  stigmatised  you  as  beyond  the  pale  of 
civilization.  It  cannot  be  wondered  then  that  the  youth- 
ful, as  well  as  the  adult  mind,  should  have  thirsted  for 
such  an  intense  enjoyment.  Having  the  opportunity  to 
avail  myself  of  a  peep  behind  the  scenes,  I  never  over- 
looked the  privilege,  and  ensconced  in  a  secure  retreat, 
awaited  the  performance  of  Othello  thus  cast :  Othello, 
E.  Kean  ;  lago,  C,  Young ;  Cassio,  J.  Cooper ;  the  after- 
piece was  a  spectacle  of  gorgeous  magnificence,  requiring  a 
large  amount  of  scenery  for  its  representation.  Kean 
had  retired  to  his  room  during  a  wait  in  the  second  act, 
and  the  writer,  (emulating  the  example  still  adhered  to 
by  fashionable  visitors  to  places  of  amusement  when  the 
favortite  quits  the  scene,)  vacated  his  little  standing 
place  near  the  wings,  and  prowled  about  amongst  the 
mysteries   of  castle   walls,  oaken  chambers,  palace  gar- 


62  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

(lens  etc.,  and  was  returning,  attracted  by  the  bell  peeling 
forth  its  solemn  and  ponderous  thunder  of  mutinous  dis- 
content. I  heard  a  rapid  tread  behind  me.  "Go  on,"  said 
a  voice,  with  great  impatience,  and  in  an  awfully  distinct 
tone.     I  did  "  go  on,"  I  thought. 

The  passage  way  was  so  crowded  with  scenery  that  it 
aiForded  space  for  but  one  person  at  a  time.  Suddenly  I 
became  aware  of  the  extreme  impulsiveness  of  human 
nature  in  general,  and  the  proprietor  of  the  voice  in  par- 
ticular, by  a  powerful  shock  inflicted  on  that  part  of  my 
l^erson  that  looks  north  when  the  face  is  to  the  south, 
which  threw  me  most  unceremoniously  far  beyond  the 
contracted  pathway ;  and  before  I  had  time  to  request  to 
be  made  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  services  I  had 
performed  that  should  entitle  me  to  such  an  unusual  and 
exclusive  mark  of  recognition,  I  heard  the  unmistakable 
burst  of  Kean's  voice,  and  caught  sight  of  him  rushing 
with  cimeter  in  hand  through  the  centre  gates,  shouting 
"  Hold  for  your  lives  "  etc.,  etc.  I  then  made  the  discov- 
ery that  I  had,  unconsciously,  nearly  made  the  stage  wait 
for  the  great  tragedian. 

I  did  oiot  insist  upon  an  explanation.  It  is  even 
probable  I  might  rather  have  felt  painfully  flattered  by 
such  an  unmistakable  mark  of  distinguished  recognition. 

I  was  a  great  patron  of  the  several  theatres  at  about 
this  period;  indeed,  no  new  and  startling  drama  could 
possibly  be  presented  to  the  j^ublic  without  my  sitting  in 
judgment  on  its  inaugural  presentation.  The  incidents 
both  before  and  behind  the  curtain  are  so  peculiar,  as  to  be 
embodied  in  a  sejiarate  sketch ;  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
many  who  have  listened  to  the  i^eculiar  badinage  of  the 
London  mechanic  and  other  patrons  of  the  galleries  of 
the  minor  theatres  in  the  great  metropolis,  will  discover 
some  resemblance  to  the  reality  in  the  following  descrip- 
tion of, 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  63 


THE  FIRST  XIGHT  OF  A  NEW  PLAT  IN  LONDON. 

The  production  of  a  uew  play  at  one  of  the  minor 
theatres  was,  and  still  is,  a  matter  of  most  intense  impor- 
tance to  that  portion  of  the  building  yclept  the  galleiy, 
Avhere  the  freedom  of  costume  and  expression  affords  am- 
ple scope  for  the  study  of  the  curious. 

Time,  5.30  p.  m.  Scene,  the  New  Cut  approaching  the 
gallery  doors  of  the  Victoria  Theatre.  Dramatis  Per- 
sona3,  the  Gamins  of  London,  with  a  plentiful  sprinkling  of 
adults,  whose  pursuits  being  of  a  mechanical  nature,  are 
by  no  means  inconvenienced  by  the  pushing  and  crowd- 
ing they  have  to  encounter ;  but  seem  rather  to  regard 
it  as  a  pleasing  relaxation  from  the  dull  routine  of  the 
work  shop. 

As  the  time  for  opening  the  doors  approaches,  the 
crowd  increases  to  an  extent  by  no  means  agreeable  for 
those  who  find  themselves  beyond  the  possibility  of  se- 
curing a  front  seat,  or  even  one  in  an  eligible  position. 

It  is  then  that  the  young  gentleman  who  has  divested 
himself  of  his  jacket  as  an  unnecessary  article  of  wearing 
apparel  in  such  a  temperature,  indulges  in  pleasant  little 
sallies  with  those  who  are  less  fortunate  in  location  than 
himself: 

"  I  say  old  'un,"  bellows  the  young  gentleman  alluded 
to  above,  to  a  staid  looking  old  play-goer,  whose  chance 
for  a  good  seat  is  extremely  remote. 

"Hi!" 

The  old  gentleman  purposely  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the 
salutation,  and  refuses  to  recognize  it. 

"  Hollo  !  you  in  the  blue  choker,  and  downy  caster  !  " 
perseveres  the  youth. 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  "  cries  the  individual,  whose  person- 
al identification  has  been  thus  positively  defined  by  the 
above  inventory  of  his  head  gear. 


64  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"  Vill  ye  stand  a,  ke-vovton,  two  outs,  if  I  carries  ye  in 
in  my  harms  as  my  own  babby  ?  " 

At  which  the  old  gentleman  looks  exceedingly  wroth, 
and  intimates  his  conviction  that  his  interlocutor  is  an 
impudent  young  puppy,  and  he  would  like  to  indulge  in 
the  luxury  of  boxing  his  ears.  A  threat  that  rather  seems 
to  fail  in  its  intention  ;  for  the  urchin  invites  him  to  "  send 
an  express  messenger  for  hi^  father  and  all  his  relations  of 
the  male  gender,  the  w^hole  of  whom  he  is  ready  to  take 
his  affidavit  he  will  despatch  to  that  'bourne  from  whence 
no  traveller  returns  ; '  "  and  in  consideration  of  his  oj^po- 
nent's  pitiable  condition  as  an  occupant  of  a  back  seat,  he 
will  generously  undertake  to  provide  for  the  feminine 
part  of  the  household,  by  taking  the  most  prepossessing 
one  to  wife,  and  disposing  of  the  balance,  in  the  most 
sumptuous  manner,  for  the  balance  of  their  natural  lives. 

"  Now,  then,  take  care,  will  ye,  stupid  ?  "  says  a  gen- 
tleman in  a  paper  caj:),  and  whose  jacket  is  strongly  im- 
pregnated with  the  odor  peculiar  to  those  who  pass  their 
time  in  converting  deal  boards  into  articles  of  domestic 
use. 

"  Jest  you  keep  off  my  corns,  or  you'll  hear  from  me 
by  the  werry  earliest  conweyance." 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  when  that  ere  chap  will  keep  a 
shoving  me  behind  in  this  way  ?  " 

"  Now  you  keep  tight  hold  o'  me,  Mary,"  urges  a  young 
man  gotten  up  with  some  amount  of  care  and  attention, 
to  a  pretty  looking  servant  girl,  with  very  bright  ribbons 
in  her  bonnet,  and  cheeks  to  match,  whose  i-eadiness  to 
comply,  rather  ignores  the  impression  that  her  sex  are 
prone  to  a  contradictory  code  of  principles. 

"  Now,  then,  look  out !  steady  !  Oh,  don't  shove  so  ! 
Oh  !  keep  your  elbows  out  of  my  ribs,  will  ye  ?  " 

A  large  bolt  is  withdrawn,  and  the  mass  of  human 
beings  begin  to  move  slowly  upwards.     The  first  six  or 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  65 

eight  who  effect  an  entrance,  charge  furiously  towards  the 
money  taker,  Avhose  box  is  garnished  by  two  policemen  of 
forbidding  aspect,  and  herculean  proportions  ;  the  duties 
of  whose  office  is  to  marshal,  without  favor  or  affection, 
the  several  patrons  in  proper  file  to  receive  their  checks, 
and  to  preserve  the  peace  generally. 

Presently  a  boy  tries  an  artful  bit  of  generalship  to 
gain  admission  ;  it  is  done  in  this  wise.  While  placing 
his  hand,  as  if  in  the  act  of  depositing  his  money,  upon 
the  pay  place,  he  affects  to  have  dropped  the  coin  at  his 
feet ;  to  search  for  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  at  such  a 
time;  the  guardians  of  the  public  peace  instantly  pounce 
upon  the  unlucky  delinquent,  and  he  is  speedily  deposit- 
ed in  a  corner,  all  the  time  protesting  that  his  bob  (shil- 
ling) slipped  out  of  his  hand,  and  "they  might  let  a 
cove  in  afore  all  the  best  seats  is  gone,  for  he's  been  wait- 
ing there,  ever  since  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  tin  will  be  sure  to  be  found  arter  the  crowd  has  gone 
in." 

Sometimes  he  will  begin  to  bellow  most  lustily,  when 
he  sees  an  elderly  man  with  two  boys  approach,  hoping 
to  excite  the  compassion  of  the  pafe>'  familias  ;  but  the 
ruse  generally  fails,  and  may  be  remembered  with  the 
street-door  Icey  and  hasJcet  delusions,  which  have,  years  ago, 
lost  their  fascinating  qualities.  The  result  is  almost  cer- 
tain to  be  disastrous  to  the  principal  performer,  whom, 
when  time  and  opportunity  serve,  is  most  unceremonious- 
ly propelled,  by  one  of  the  stout  boots  of  the  policeman, 
with  alarming  rapidity  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

Save  the  several  and  frequent  admonitions  for  the  vis- 
itors to  take  personal  care  of  their  pockets  from  the  at- 
tentions of  the  light-fingered  gentry,  there  is  little  to  oc- 
cupy your  thoughts  till  you  find  yourself  deposited  in  the 
gallery,  where  a  scene  presents  itself  both  animated,  and 
variable. 


66  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

V 

The  genus  artful,  again  exhibits  its  i^rowess  with  the 
laudable  design  of  procuring  for  itself  a  comfortable  lo- 
cation from  whence  to  view  the  performance.  This  is 
accomplished  by  feigning  to  recognize  some  friend  in  the 
second  or  third  row  from  the  front,  and  begging  jDcrmis- 
sion  of  the  occupants  of  the  upper  seats  the  privilege  of 
passing  down.  Sometimes  the  ruse  succeeds,  and  he  will 
manage  to  squeeze  himself  into  a  sitting  posture.  This, 
with  the  invitations  from  those  who  have  really  secur- 
ed seats  for  their  friends,  beguiles  the  time  till  the 
lights  are  raised,  and  the  orchestra  begins  the  overture. 

The  first  scene,  (being  new  for  the  occasion,)  or  so 
much  of  it  as  to  destroy  its  identification  with  a  land- 
scape painted  for  a  new  piece  gotten  up  in  the  early  part 
of  the  previous  season  at  considerable  expense,  and  which 
was  seriously  intended  to  run  three  months,  but  "  shuf- 
fled off  its  mortal  coil,"  in  a  like  number  of  nights,  is  re- 
ceived with  that  apiDlause  which  its  merits  deserve,  and 
the  actors  also  are  favored  with  a  recognition  so  pleasing 
to  those  who  are  in  constant  receipt  of  such  compliments, 
and  so  inconsistent  to  others  who  never  obtain  any  no- 
tice whatever,  and  the  act  terminates  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  most  exacting  critic. 

"  Apples !  Oranges !  Ginger-beer !  Bill  o'  the  play  !  " 
cries  a  sturdy  female,  with  strong,  muscular  develop- 
ment, as  she  grazes  the  shins  of  the  occupants  of  each 
and  every  seat  with  a  basket  of  unusual  j^roportions  con- 
taining the  aforesaid  luxuries. 

"  By  your  leave,  young  ooman,  if  you  please ;  and  she 
dabs  the  basket  into  the  lap  of  a  female,  who,  in  compa- 
ny with  a  congenial  spirit,  is  taking  her  second  sand- 
wich, a  large  bundle  of  which  nourishment  she  has  armed 
herself  with,  as  a  set-ofl"  against  her  afternoon  meal  which 
she  has  been  deprived  of  by  her  presence  there. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  says  the  young  woman  addressed, 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  67 

after  having  plentifully  fortified  herself  against  the  at- 
tacks of  hunger,  "  that  these  'ere  women  with  their  bas- 
kets is  a  confounded  nuisance,  and  ought  to  be  pvit 
down." 

Similar  scenes  are  repeated  in  pretty  much  the  same 
style  at  the  end  of  the  several  acts,  during  which  it  is 
more  than  probable  we  are  favored  with  an  interlude 
not  provided  by  the  management,  but  none  the  less  amus- 
ing. 

A  young  lady  in  a  faded  pink  bonnet  and  shawl,  with 
a  profusion  of  border  of  a  crimson  tint,  inadvertently  re- 
plies to  a  question  propounded  by  a  gentleman  in  a  col- 
ored shirt,  embellished  with  studs  of  a  dazzling  splen- 
dor ;  the  which  excites  the  ire  of  the  lady's  chaperon., 
who  threatens,  without  fee  or  reward,  to  pitch  the  said 
individual  into  the  pit.  He,  of  the  studs,  while  treating 
the  compliment  with  disdain,  consoles  himself  with  a 
promise  to  wait  favorable  opportunity,  during  the  ab- 
sence of  the  fair  sex,  and  thrash  him  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent. 

As  none  of  us  are  proof  against  the  blandishments  of 
the  softer  portion  of  creation,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the 
female  with  the  jarettily  formed  mouth,  which  she  keeps 
in  a  perpetual  giggle,  should  secure  the  admiration  of 
the  susceptible  youth  with  curly  hair,  who  fixes  his  eyes 
upon  her  with  an  exjaression  of  fervor  too  significant  to 
be  mistaken  for  the  result  of  accident ;  so  evident,  indeed, 
is  the  action,  that  her  cavalier,  with  a  frown,  requests  he 
will  direct  his  gaze  in  some  other  direction ;  an  admoni- 
tion that  only  meets  with  the  rejoinder  that, — 

"  He  belives  his  heyes  is  his  own,  and  he  shall  use  'em 
as  most  convenient  to  his  own  fancy,  without  consult- 
ing him,  or  any  of  his  friends  as  he  knows  on  ! " 

Meanwhile,  preparations  are  proceeding  on  the  stage 
for  the  "great  third  act,"  (vide  bills,)  wherein  the  Duke, 


68  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

surrounded  by  his  officers,  habited  in  his  robes  of  state, 
seated  upon  a  raised  dais,  issued  a  decree  of  outlawry 
against  a  jDOor  but  honest  peasant,  whose  only  percepti- 
ble crime  appears  to  be,  a  secret  affection  conjointly  ex- 
isting between  himself  and  the  pet  daughter  of  the  afore- 
said ducal  despot. 

As  the  play  proceeds  the  audience  entertain  a  person- 
al admiration  or  antipathy  for  the  several  personages,  in 
proportion  to  the  phase  of  character  they  represent ;  and 
when  in  the  fourth  act,  the  heroine,  attired  in  garments 
of  snowy  whiteness,  with  her  back  hair  streaming  to  the 
winds,  encounters  her  obdurate  parent,  while  he  is  chafed 
with  the  afiliirs  of  state,  and  acquaints  him  with  her  firm 
determination  to  linger  out  her  virgin  existence  within 
the  close  confines  of  a  dungeon's  walls,  sooner  than  be 
immolated  upon  the  hated  affections  of  that  "fiend  in 
human  form,"  (as  she  styles  the  lord  and  princely  owner 
of  a  neighboring  domain,  to  whom  her  father  is  preparing 
to  dispose  of  her,)  the  audience  are  in  ecstacies  of  de- 
light at  her  personal  courage,  and  devoted  affection  for 
the  friendless,  but  virtuous  peasant. 

A  confidential  interview  between  the  dignitary  so 
highly  complimented,  and  the  Duke,  speedily  discloses 
the  deep  subtlety  of  the  dramatist  in  the  conduct  of  his 
plot:  these  Avorthies  not  only  propose  to  carry  off  the 
heroine  aforesaid,  with  the  aid  of  two  hired  rufiians 
(whose  very  appearance  is  a  stamp  recei2:)t  for  cruelty,) 
but  they  also  design,  when  this  little  bit  of  paternal 
beneficence  shall  be  consummated,  to  divide  the  worldly 
wealth  to  which  the  lady  would  be  entitled  on  reaching 
her  majority,  between  them,  which  very  equitable  dis- 
position of  the  property  is  only  prevented  by  the  startling 
discovery  that  one  of  the  gentlemen  detailed  for  this  pleas- 
ing ofiice,  is  none  other  than  the  humble  peasant  before 
alluded  to,  and  whose  appearance  in  such  a  character 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  69 

without  being  very  clearly  defined  Low  he  could  possibly 
get  there,  secures  for  the  drama  a  powerful  and  brilliant 
denouement,  and  contributes  a  wholesome  lesson  of  retri- 
butive justice  to  the  delighted  auditory. 

The  audience  retire  to  dream  of  the  fascinating  scene  ; 
the  actors  wend  their  way  homeward  weary  and  fatigued 
with  their  night's  exertions;  the  ladies  of  the  ballet 
emerge  from  the  stage-door  bearing  curiously  shaped 
baskets  or  parcels  supposed  to  contain  small  articles  of 
wearing  apparel  indispensable  for  the  next  day^s  xise.  As 
they  draw  their  scanty  shawls  about  them,  and  the  night 
air  pierces  into  their  very  bones,  cast  a  thought  of  wo- 
manly sympathy,  ye  choice  daughters  of  affluence  and 
comfort,  whose  very  atmosj)here  shields  ye  from  the 
breath  of  calumny,  and  know  that  beneath  those  cheap, 
but  tastily  made  habiliments,  beat  hearts  as  pure  from 
guile,  or  sin,  as  many  who  luxuriate  on  the  downy  couch 
of  indolent  ease,  or  indulge  in  the  freedom  of  fashionable 
folly. 

The  night  Avatchman  relieves  the  day  porter,  and,  as 
he  wanders  through  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  build- 
ing, bears  an  apt  resemblance  to  the  troubled  spirit  of 
some  departed  gnome,  searching  for  something  he  can- 
not find. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

**  Throwing  him  into  the  water  will  do  him  a  benefit." 

— Merry  Wives.     Act  3.     Scene  3. 

BENEFIT  MAKII^G. 

This  is  a  science  achieved  only  by  a  limited  number  of 
the  profession.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  its  modus 
operandi  with  any  amount  of  accuracy.  Some  there  are 
who  deluge  every  friend,  or  acquaintance,  no  matter  of 
how  long  standing,  with  tickets,  who  are  often  compelled 
to  dispose  of,  or  pay  for  them,  for  very  shame.  Others 
there  are  who,  in  the  exercise  of  their  desire  to  uphold 
the  dignity  of  the  profession,  content  themselves  by 
simply  notifying  the  public  through  the  medium  of  the 
daily  papers  that  "  they  beg  to  present  their  claims  for 
the  kindly  consideration  of  their  indulgent  patrons,  hop- 
ing to  be  favored  with  a  small  modicum  of  their  usual 
affectionate  regard." 

The  profits  derived  from  these  transactions  are  not  as 
advantageous  as  the  public,  in  the  innocence  of  its  good 
nature,  mostly  believe !  indeed,  we  once  knew  an  actor  who 
refused  most  postively  to  permit  his  name  to  be  used  for  a 
benefit,  under  the  plea,  that  with  a  rapidly  increasing 
family,  and  a  sick  wife,  he  couldn't  possibly  afford  to  run 
the  risk  of  the  speculation. 

Another  congratulated  himself  on  his  increasing  pop- 
ularity in  only  losing  ten  dollars  at  his  last  benefit ; 
whereas,  on  making  his  ajtpeal    the  year  jireceding,  he 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  71 

was  minus  twenty  dollars,  showing  a  clear  gain  of  ten 
dollars  in  his  monetary  significance  with  the  public. 

The  most  successful  manoeuvre  within  my  recollection 
was  perpetrated  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  where  we  had 
a  very  useful  and  pains-taking  actor,  whose  name  was 
Baker,  but  who  never  had  been  able  to  muster  a  tolerable 
assembly  at  his  benefit.  On  the  occasion  to  which  I  here 
refer  he  was  much  in  need  of  money,  and  hit  upon  the 
following-  plan.  A  wealthy  man  in  the  neighborhood  had 
an  only  child,  whose  custom  was  to  wander  about  the 
fields  plucking  flowers.  A  river  with  a  rapid  stream 
skirted  the  field,  terminating  in  a  dam  of  great  depth 
and  difiicult  of  approach  from  the  shore.  Suddenly  a 
shriek  was  heard,  the  child  was  seen  struggling  in  the 
water,  and  being  carried  with  great  velocity  towards  the 
dam.  Baker  was  on  the  spot ;  quick  as  thought  he  threw 
ofi"  a  portion  of  his  garments,  and  regardless  of  danger? 
(lie  was  an  expert  swimmer)  dashed  into  the  current! 
The  cries  of  the  child  had  brought  numbers  to  the  place, 
among  them  the  fi-antic  parent  of  the  little  one,  whose 
almost  sirffbcated  form  was  thrown  to  and  fro,  at  the  will 
of  the  turgid  element.  The  excitement  was  terrible,  as 
the  bystanders  were  unable  to  assist  in  the  slightest  degree 
from  their  point  of  sight  the  intrepid  youth,  save  with 
their  encouraging  plaudits.  At  length  he  seized  the 
drowning  one  by  the  back  of  its  little  neck,  and  tenderly 
elevated  its  head  to  such  a  position  as  to  afford  its  fastly 
ebbing  nature  the  advantage  of  respiration,  and  sustaining 
himself  as  best  he  could,  made  for  the  shore  ;  Avhere,  amid 
the  shouts  of  a  gratified  multitude,  and  copious  flows  of 
tears  from  the  joyous  parent,  he  laid  his  little  treasure  at 
his  f>3et,  and  walked  triumphantly  to  his  lodgings,  a 
"  wetter,  but  a  happier  man ! " 

The  journals  throughout  the  whole  county  indulged  in 
panegerics  without   luuuber,  of  the  most  laudatory  kind, 


72  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES, 

and  bis  benefit  came  oif  under  special  patronage  of  tbe 
Mayor  and  corporation  ;  tbe  bouse  was  crowded  to  excess, 
and  wben  Baker  came  forward  in  all  tbe  agony  of  evening 
costume  at  the  end  of  tbe  play,  to  return  tbanks  for  the 
distinguisbed  bonor  conferred  by  tbe  attendance  of  tbe 
aristocratic  visitors,  two  old  maiden  ladies,  wbose  beads 
were  surmounted  witb  formidable  battlements  of  pink 
irauze  and  wbite  roses,  and  wbo  came  to  tbe  theatre  be- 
cause  everybody  wbo  could  lay  tbe  slightest  claim  to  being 
anybody  was  to  be  there,  sobbed  audibly,  when  the  actor 
briefly  alluded  to  the  touching  incident  that  bad,  in  so 
providential  a  way,  directed  attention  to  one  so  unworthy 
their  esteem  as  himself;  that,  when  in  after  life,  should 
he  be  spared  to  Avitness  the  time  wben  the  young  lady  he 
bad  bad  the  happiness  of  rescuing  from  a  watery  grave, 
should  attain  the  dignity  of  lovely  woman's  estate,  and 
be  blessed  with  maternal  charges,  it  would  be  the  j^roud- 
est  moment  of  his  varied  career,  could  he  be  on  the  alert 
in  tbe  event  of  a  similar  catastrophe  happening  to  one, 
or  all  of  them. 

Tbe  young  lady,  wbo  occupied  a  conspicuous  place,  and 
was  gotten  up  with  great  care,  in  virgin  white  decorated 
with  blue  ribbons,  became  sufi'used  witb  blushes,  at  this 
perspective  view  of  her  future  position  in  the  social  scale  ; 
while  her  parent,  with  bis  massive  iron-gray  head,  oblique- 
ly cut  whiskers,  and  very  stiff  white  choker,  could  hardly 
suppress  the  feebngs  of  pleasure  and  pride  that  swelled 
beneath  tbe  ample  folds  of  his  plaited  shirt  bosom. 

Presents  of  all  kinds  poured  in  upon  Baker ;  from  the 
silver  pitcher  with  an  inscription  on  its  stomach  detailing 
all  the  incidents  of  the  affair,  to  the  embroidered  pen 
wiper,  and  illuminated  vest  pattern. 

Jealousy,  witb  its  hydra-beaded,  and  venomous  con- 
ceit, looked  distrustfully  upon  the  hero  of  tbe  above 
drama,  and,  in  one  instance,  oftered  to  prove  by  undoubt- 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  73 

eel  authority,  tbat  a  similar  incident  had  happened  a  year 
or  two  prior  to  that  date,  but  in  a  diiFereut  part  of  the 
country ;  and  further,  that  there  were  those  who  Avere 
prepared  to  show  that  the  accident  w^as  the  result  of  a 
well  devised  plot,  artfully  invented  by  the  said  Baker. 

The  late  Mr.  Burton  once  told  me  a  good  benefit  story. 
Many  years  ago,  he  played  a  star  engagement  at  the  town 
of  Napoleon,  on  the  Mississippi  river ;  it  had  not  been 
very  profitable,  and  his  only  chance  of  retrieving  himself, 
was  by  personally  beating  up  for  the  benefit ;  with  this 
object  in  view,  he  deposited  a  goodly  bundle  of  tickets  with 
the  bar  tender  at  the  hotel  where  he  was  staying,  wdth  a 
polite  request  that  he  would  use  his  best  endeavor  to  get 
rid  of  them.  The  benefit  came  off",  and  the  attendance 
was  very  flattering.  After  the  play,  the  comedian  in- 
vited several  friends  up  to  the  bar  of  the  man  who  had  so 
liberally  patronized  the  drama,  and  there  had  the  satis- 
faction of  learning  that  he  had  managed  to  get  rid  of  all 
the  tickets  entrusted  to  him.  This  was  very  gratifying, 
but  no  offer  of  liquidation  for  the  same  met  his  expectant 
gaze,  whereupon,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  quitting  the 
city,  he  ventured  to  suggest  that  he  would  like  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  receiving  the  insignificant  amount  of 
seventy-five  cents  for  each  piece  of  pasteboard  deposited. 

It  takes  a  great  deal  to  astonish  a  bar  keeper  in  Napo- 
leon ;  it  is  no  ordinary  feat  to  take  one  of  them  thorough- 
ly ofl'  his  guard,  but  this  one  was  evidently  distanced. 
He  surveyed  Burton  with  surprise  not  unmixed  with  cre- 
dulity. Finding  the  comedian  didn't  relax  a  muscle  of  his 
very  expressive  countenance,  he  said — 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Billy  Burton,  none  of  your  infernal 
Northern  tricks  here ;  it  won't  do,  no  way  !  no  how  !  You 
told  me  to  get  rid  of  them  tickets  for  you,  and  as  1  had 
4 


74  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

promised,  I  was  bound  to  go  right  straight  through  with 
it,  and  hy  thwider^  I  teas  obliged  to  stand  drinJcs  to  every 
man  to  take  one." 

THE  STAGE  DOOR  KEEPER. 

["  No  admittance  behind  the  scenes,  under  any  pretence  whatever, 
without  the  express  permission  of  the  manager.] — Vide  Stagedoor.'" 

Probably  the  above  i:>rohibition  is  the  incentive  to  that 
curiosity  invariably  manifested  by  the  youthful  mind,  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Avorkings  of  the  mysterious  ma- 
chinery within  the  magic  circle  of  the  dramatic  temple  ; 
or,  it  may  be  that,  as  in  every  sphere  of  our  chequered  ex- 
istence, the  antagonism  to  authority  engrafts  a  two-fold 
desire  within  our  breasts  to  arrive  at  the  interdicted  goal, 
whether  it  be  in  the  perusal  of  a  volume,  the  peering  into 
private  closets,  where  niceties  are  heartlessly  sealed,  or 
the  love  of  ruminating  in  the  j^roximity  of  a  neighbor- 
ing brook ;  such  an  endless  source  of  anxiety  to  the  stern 
father  and  affectionate  mother,  that  makes  us  thirst  for 
the  forbidden  treasure. 

If  we  experience  an  intense  pleasure  in  opposing  the 
will  of  others  in  the  domestic  circle,  how  natural  it  is  for 
us  to  desire  to  violate  the  chilling  manifesto  of  the  Cer- 
berus w^ho  loimges  through  his  monotonous  existence, 
holding  watch  and  ward  over  the  swing  door,  crowned 
with  the  above  proscription.  How  we  wonder  what  he 
does  with  himself  at  night;  where  he  goes  to,  when  the 
individual  with  thick  boots  and  scarlet  comforter,  who  is 
frigidly  taciturn,  relieves  him,  and  begins  his  peregrina- 
tions through  the  buildinof. 

I  remember  in  my  thirst  for  knowledge,  once  attempt- 
ing to  obtain  the  personal  history  of  a  stage  door  keeper, 
I  mean  one  attached  to  a  regularly  well-organized  es- 
tablishment in  a  populous  city,  not  one  of  an  exotic  na- 
ture, where  the  lessees  start  with  the  praiseworthy  in- 


FOOTLIGHT   PLASHES.  75 

teutioii  of  resuscitating  the  much  abused  drama,  and  as 
an  earnest  of  their  intention  assume  the  entire  responsi- 
bility of  the  act,  by  personating  all  the  best  ixirts  them- 
selves. 

The  natural  instinctiveness  for  divining  the  occupa- 
tions or  early  habits  of  people  is  not  very  sorely  tested 
if  the  party  of  whom  we  desire  to  collect  information 
should  have  been  engaged  in  the  defence  of  his  country's 
cause,  either  by  laud  or  sea.  If  the  former,  there  is  in- 
variably an  erectness  of  bearing,  a  respect  for  those  in 
authority,  and  a  positive  regard  for  duty  and  obedience, 
which  so  strongly  prove  the  sternness  of  military  tactics. 
If  the  latter,  it  is  easily  discernible  by  the  possession  of 
the  very  ojiposite  attributes  which  marks  the  soldier's 
identification.  His  conversation  is  so  constantly  imiDreg- 
nated  with  expressions  of  a  saline  flavor,  that  it  would 
be  perfectly  unnecessary  to  worm  yourself  into  his  good 
graces  for  the  purpose  of  learning  his  previous  occupa- 
tion. 

The  one  of  which  I  speak,  had  been  consigned  in  early 
life  to  the  service  of  a  grateful  country.     He  tirst  saw  the 

light  in  the  barracks  at during  a  morning  parade,  and 

the  interesting  event  was  conveyed  to  the  paternal  au- 
thor of  his  being  by  his  eldest  brother,  who  was  a  fifer  in 
his  father's  company,  while  he  was  exercising  the  duties 
of  his  office  as  corporal  in  the regiment  of  foot. 

When,  in  course  of  time,  our  hero  had  grown  to  boy's 
estate,  he  was  duly  instructed  in  the  art  and  mystery  of 
that  very  necessary,  but  somewhat  emphatic  musical  in- 
strument yclept  "  The  drum."  As  time  marched  on, 
waving  its  variegated  plume  of  riches  and  wretchedness, 
the  father  of  our  hero  passed  away,  covered  with  his 
country's  glory,  and  the  gashes  of  an  obdurate  foe ;  and, 
while  his  life's  blood  oozed  out  amid  the  din  of  battle  and 
the  shrieks  of  the  wounded  and  the  dying,  his   mind 


76  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

wandered  to  tlie  wife  and  little  ones  lie  was  bequeathing 
to  his  country's  care.  And  when  all  became  a  misty  vis- 
ion and  his  fine,  manly  heart  had  ceased  its  beating  and 
was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  Supreme  Conquer- 
or, the  clamorous  joy  of  the  victors,  whose  prowess 
loomed  amongst  the  greatest  of  military  exploits,  shed  a 
halo  of  imperishable  renown  upon  all  who  took  part  in 
the  conflict. 

It  was  then  the  bursting  heart  of  the  corporal's  widow 
received  its  quota  of  thanks, —  a  sorry  equivalent  for  so 
great  a  sacrifice  ;  but,  alas  !  all  her  country  had  to  ofier. 

Trained  and  nurtured  under  strict  military  supervision, 
our  hero  devoted  the  sunshine  of  his  days  to  the  only 
duty  he  had  ever  known,  to  find  himself  in  the  evening 
of  his  career  in  receipt  of  a  scanty  pittance,  doled  out  un- 
der the  dignified  appellation  of  a  "  jiension,"  by  no  means 
suflicient  for  his  daily  wants. 

Thence  it  was  that  he  now  added  to  his  little  store  of 
weekly  wealth  by  mounting  guard  as  above  stated.  If 
it  yielded  little  in  the  way  of  remuneration,  it  sometimes 
carried  him  back,  (in  a  minute  degree)  to  a  like  position 
while  guarding  the  outposts  in  the  battle-field. 

He  will  delight  to  descant  on  his  perilous  campaigns, 
with  illustrations,  amid  the  roar  of  cannon  and  all  the 
frightful  paraphernalia  of  war  ;  but  he  fashions  his  dis- 
course to  the  social  status  of  his  inquirers.  The  supers 
he  looks  upon  with  great  distrust ;  he  often  considers 
they  display  a  large  amount  of  presumption  in  propound- 
ing questions  relative  to  sorties,  charges,  and  other  war- 
like mysteries,  and  half  suspects  that  these  worthies  are 
addicted  to  the  vice  of  practical  joking. 

The  leading  lady  of  the  establishment  is  an  especial 
favorite  with  the  door-keeper.  Only  watch  him  as  he 
marches  out  to  assist  her  from  the  carriage.  And  if  the 
weather  should  happen  to  be  wet,  see  how  he  will  dive 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  .   77 

precipitately  into  the  little  clen  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
porter's  hall,  and  speedily  appear  with  an  umbrella  of 
huge  proportions,  holding  the  same  over  the  lady's  head 
Avith  a  grace  which  many  might  envy,  but  few  could  im- 
itate. 

The  gala-time  for  the  stage-door  keeper  is  pending, 
the  production  of  a  "  Military  drama  of  intense  interest, 
embracing  startling  and  thrilling  effects  never  before  at- 
tempted upon  such  a  scale  of  magnificence." 

Then  he  is  in  great  request  —  he  drills  the  supers  for 
the  various  conflicts  with  which  the  piece  abounds.  We 
have  seen  our  hero  equipped  with  side  arms,  going  through 
the  mystic  manoeuvres  of  charge  and  retreat,  with  an 
earnestness  worthy  of  a  better  cause. 

Perchance  the  leading  lady  above  mentioned  may 
have  valiantly  to  defend  herself  at  the  sword's  point 
against  two  ferocious  monsters  (as  she  has  several  times 
stigmatized  them  through  the  three  preceding  scenes,)  it 
is  then  that  the  talent  of  the  old  soldier  presents  itself  in 
its  most  interesting  aspect. 

The  bravos  that  resound  through  boxes,  pit  and  galle- 
ry, at  the  defeated  fiends  in  human  form^  as  the  retain- 
ers of  the  usurping  Baron  are  usually  designated  by  the 
author  of  domestic  drama,  are  nothing  when  compai'ed  to 
the  feeling  of  pride  that  fills  the  breast  of  the  door  keeper, 
as  he  considers  himself  as  an  accessory  before  the  fact  in 
all  the  successful  hits  of  the  evening. 

Did  ever  one  of  our  masculine  readers,  after  the  pro- 
duction of  a  piece  of  the  above  description,  fall  desper- 
ately, head  over  ears,  in  love  with  the  fair  heroine  of  the 
play  ?  and  would  he  not  have  given,  (figuratively  of 
coui'se)  one  of  his  ears  to  pour  forth  in  person  his  pas- 
sion to  the  idol  of  his  soul,  (figurativ^ely  again)  and  has 
he  not  urged,  begged  and  entreated  of  our  friend,  the 
private  residence  of  his  best  beloved,  and  did  he  ever  suc- 
ceed in  getting  it  ? 


78  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

The  stage-door  keeper  is  always  distinguished  for  ex- 
treme taciturnity  on  all  matters  relating  to  the  private 
abode  of  the  company,  the  ladies  in  particular.  His  con- 
stant rej^ly  to  all  enquiries  is, — 

"Don't  know,  sir;  leave  a  letter  here,  sure  to  get  it; 
send  it  up  by  the  first  person  going  in,  can't  leave  the 
door  myself." 

This  is  another  of  the  strong  ijeculiarities  of  our  friend. 
Although  so  closely  connected  with  dramatic  matters,  it 
is  very  rarely  that  he  Avitnesses  a  performance.  I  well 
remember  a  very  old  and  faithful  servant  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Theatre,  who  had  been  at  his  post  for  thirty-six 
years,  and  during  the  whole  of  that  time  had  never  once 
seen  a  play  performed. 

Our  old  soldier  is  an  important  item  toward  the  proper 
conduct  of  a  theatre  ;  and  whether  he  be  of  the  nature 
herein  described,  or  of  a  loquacious  turn  of  mind,  trained 
in  early  life  to  mechanical  usefulness  he  is  invariably 
distinguished  for  honesty  to  his  employers,  always  evinc- 
ing a  prudent  regard  for  the  secrets  of  the  establishment, 
the  keys  of  which  he  will  often  exhibit  with  an  air  of 
pride  and  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  This  lecture  "will  be  done,  ere  you  have  tuned." 

—  Taming  Of  The  Shrew.  Act  3.  Scene  1. 

In  1845  I  gave,  for  the  first  time,  an  entertainment  on 
the  works  of  Charles  Dickens.  Manchester,  Liverpool, 
Birmingham,  all  through  the  midland  counties,  Perth  and 
Edinburgh  were  visited  for  this  puri^ose.  The  press  of 
every  town  or  city  paid  me  some  very  flattering  compli- 
ments, in  connection  with  our  "  Evenings  with  Charles 
Dickens,"  but  a  writer  in  the  North  British  Review,  made 
some  rather  savage  attacks  upon  the  author,  the  nature 
and  tendency  of  his  works,  &c.,  insisting  that  he  was  a 
gross  caricaturist ;  that  such  people  as  Mrs.  Gamp  and 
Pecksniff  never  existed  in  real  life  ;  and  falling  back,  as  is 
customary  with  Scotch  critics,  upon  the  usual  literary 
comparison  with  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Tlie  writer  did  himself  the  pleasure  of  replying,  at  one 
of  his  entertainments  in  the  "  Modern  Athens  "  of  the 
Nortli,  to  the  above  named  article,  and  on  submitting,  by 
request,  an  outline  of  the  argument,  received  the  follow- 
ing, from  the  great  novelist  in  reply. 

(Copi/). 

1  D15V0NSHIRE  TERRACE,  (York  Gate,  Kegent  Park.)  ') 
22d  December,  ISiS.  5 

"Dear  Sir: 

"I  beg  to  thank  you  for  your  obliging  note,  and  its 
enclosure,  which  shall  be  disposed  of  as  you  desire,  and 
as  it  deserves. 


80  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  fully  appreciate  the  honor 
you  do  me,  not  only  in  making  my  books  the  subject  of 
your  lectures,  but  in  entering  into  your  theme  with  so 
much  warmth  and  earnestness. 

I  am.  Dear  Sir, 

Faithfully  yours. 

Charles  Dickens. 
"  William  Davidge,  Esq." 

The  Scotch  mind  is  usually  too  metajDhysically  con- 
structed, to  appreciate  a  writer  like  Dickens.  There  is  a 
ponderosity,  (so  to  speak)  about  the  literary  tastes  of 
many  of  our  very  dear  friends  "  t'other  side  the  Tweed," 
at  variance  with  the  sparkling  and  life-like  pictures  pre- 
sented by  him  whom  I  regard  as  the  greatest  social  re- 
former of  his  time. 

Where  is  the  generous  soil  that  yields  the  like  marvel- 
lous variety  of  tempting  j^roducts  ?  Talk  of  the  fruit  of 
Hesperides,  or  the  nectar  of  Jove!  the  one  falls,  and  the 
other  is  insipid,  when  brought  into  comparison. 

In  his  books,  a  spirit  is  abroad  whose  effulgence  has 
penetrated  the  hearts  of  susceptible  humanity,  and  open- 
ed the  floodgates  of  inestimable  treasures,  that  ages  can- 
not exhaust.  To  the  man  with  desires  projierly  temper- 
ed and  guided,  life  is  not  wholly  the  career  of  hard  por- 
tions and  depressing  cares,  or  a  medium  solely  for  the 
gratification  of  hot  j^assions  and  ill-neglected  powers,  as 
it  is  to  many  who  j^ossess  the  means,  but  ignorantly  and 
foolishly  reject  the  more  lasting  and  healthful  pleasure 
which  is  nowhere  so  readily  found  as  in  his  pages.  He 
is  one  of  those  who  have  caught  the  light  of  that  magic 
spirit  which  has  dispelled  darkness,  doubt,  and  despair  ; 
and  still  ministers,  a  high  priest,  at  its  shrine.  The  light 
that  has  beamed  upon  his  own  soul  he  has  given  reflected, 
not  concealing  or  keeping  it  from  his  less  fortunate  fellow 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  81 

creatures,  but  sharing  it  with  all;  and  as  his  path  is  illu- 
minated, so  would  he  illuminate  the  high  road  of  the 
world.  He  is  the  humanizer  before  whose  magical  wand 
the  evil  that  is  in  human  nature  crouches,  subdued  and 
overthrown. 

If  ever  a  writer  lived  who  could  nightly  place  his  head 
upon  his  pillow  with  a  firm  conviction  that  he  had  never 
recorded  a  sentiment  he  need  recall,  it  is  Charles  Dickens. 
A  charge  against  him,  (especially  in  Scotland)  which  has 
been  made  to  assume  the  shape  of  a  most  serious  accusa- 
tion is,  that  his  scenes  and  characters,  either  from  conge- 
niality or  predilection,  are  invariably  drawn  from  middle, 
or  lower  life  ;  —  that  the  exquisite  tone  and  refinement  of 
fashionable  society,  are  above  his  conception  or  ability  to 
portray.  But  Dickens,  like  a  true  student  of  nature, 
knows  that  if  his  subject  require  strong  and  powerful  in- 
terest he  must  not  seek  it  in  those  grades  where  the  pas- 
sions and  feelings  ever  act  under  the  disguise  which  the 
position  of  the  individual  casts  ai'ound  him.  In  search 
of  native  wit,  humor  and  force  of  expression,  the  writer 
of  fiction  must  stop  long  before  he  reach  the  circumscrib- 
ed circle  within  whicli  the  high  and  mighty  invest  them- 
selves with  the  artificialities  of  their  station.  Who,  let 
me  ask,  when  dwelling  with  rapture  upon  the  wondrous 
fidelity  of  a  painting  by  Tenniers,  or  Wilkie,  allows  his 
judgment  to  be  warped,  or  his  admiration  to  be  suppress- 
ed by  the  homeliness  which  those  great  artists  delighted 
to  depict.  And  so,  like  them,  only  in  another  sphere  of 
art,  Dickens  raises  an  everlasting  monument  to  his  owji 
renown,  by  selecting  materials  that  are  durable  and  ef- 
ficient. 

Imbued  with  this  estimate  of  the  author's  works,  my 

readers  may  judge  the  state  of  my  feelings  when,  during 

the  most  prosperous  period  of  the  season,  I  determined 

to  impart  the  peculiar  excellence  of  his  books  to  the  pnb- 

.  4* 


82  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

lie  of  Glasgow,  the  second  city  of  the  country  that  proud- 
ly boasts  having  given  birth  to  Scott  and  Bvirns. 

DICKENS  IN  GLASGOW. 

It  was  a  fine  starlight  evening  in  the  month  of  April, 
when,  after  due  process  of  advertising,  posting,  and  all 
the  accessories  of  diurnal  attention,  I  presented  myself 
white-gloved  and  chokered,  at  the  Music  Hall,  to  perpe- 
trate my  "  Evening  with  Charles  Dickens."  The  door 
keepers  duly  arrived  with  checks,  and  a  heavy  amount  of 
specie  for  change,  posted  themselves  in  orderly  array, 
waiting  the  rush  of  the  expectant  multitude.  The  hall, 
a  most  beautiful  one,  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  two 
rows  of  extra  chairs  placed  in  convenient  proximity  to  the 
rostrum.  At  the  specified  time  the  doors  were  thrown 
open  with  the  customary  bang,  and  from  the  partially 
opened  door  of  the  retiring  room,  I  listened  impatiently 
for  the  approach  of  my  patrons.  A  painful  propriety  per- 
vaded the  passage  way,  relieved  at  brief  intervals  by  one 
of  the  attendants  who,  with  his  finger  nails,  extemporised 
a  medley  composed  of  the  popular  airs  of  his  native  land, 
upon  the  capacious  tin  box  provided  by  the  establishment 
for  the  receipt  of  tickets. 

At  length,  the  delicate  step  of  one  of  the  fiiir  sex, 
accompanied  by  the  more  amply  provided  tread  of  one  of 
the  opposite  gender,  assailed  my  ears.  The  audiences  are 
very  fashionable,  mused  I,  and  come  late  here  ;  the  rust- 
ling of  silk  approached  nearer  and  stopped  in  its  progress 
towards  the  money  taker.  I  listened,  then  peeped  out.  A 
lady  and  gentleman  were  surveying  a  formidable  bill  of 
fare  hanging  in  the  hall.  They  perused  it  with  evident  care 
and  circumspection.  I  felt  flattered,  for  it  was  replete  with 
Avhat  I  considered  [/ooci  J ol-es,  concocted  after  tortuous 
offences  against  the  rules  of  the  language,  and  having  got 
to  the  end  of  it  —  turned  round  —  a7id —  loalked  out ! 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  Od 

This  reckless  act  of  deceit  inflicted  on  the  door  keeper, 
opened  the  flood-gates  of  his  commiseration  for  the 
degeneracy  of  his  race,  and  induced  him  to  request  his 
brother  in  solitude  to  join  issue  with  him  in  a  copious 
pinch  of  snufl",  when  the  following  colloquy  began : 

«  What's  o'clock  ?  "  asked  one. 

"Ten  minutes  to  eight!  "  was  the  reply,  consulting  his 
time-keeper  for  the  authority. 

"  When  does  he  begin  ?  "  said  the  first. 

"  Why,  at  eight  precisely  he  says,"  said  the  second,  "  and 
he  was  very  particular  this  morning  in  requesting  me  to 
be  here  at  seven,  that  he  might  have  his  audience  well 
and  comfortably  seated  before  he  began,  because  he  didn't 
like  to  be  disturbed." 

"  Well,  Sandy,"  quaintly  replied  the  first,  "  it  strikes 
me  that  he  won't  have  much  reason  to  complain  of  inter- 
ruption to  night." 

"  Perhaps  it  might  be  as  well  to  defer  it  for  a  week." 

"  Aye,"  said  his  companion,  "  or  till  Christmas  or  New 
Year's  next ;  as  the  public  seem  to  have  a  previous  engage- 
ment which  they  are  not  disposed  to  break." 

My  mind  began  to  drift  into  that  pleasing  condition  I 
should  imagine  a  gentleman  sufiers,  who  is  within  the 
meshes  of  legal  constraint,  and  anxiously  waiting  the 
return  of  the  messenger  who  has  been  dispatched  for  his 
intimate  personal  acquaintance  to  become  security  for  his 
next  appearance,  when  required. 

Three  minutes  to  eight,  and  the  idea  began  to  suggest 
itself  that  it  was  more  than  probable  the  projected  enter- 
tainment might  turn  out  a  failure. 

The  money  takers  returned  to  the  charge  with  that 
delightful  hadinage  which  so  pleasantly  diversify  the 
monotony  of  facetious  leisure,  when  it  can  be  indulged  in 
at  the  expense  of  another  party  than  those  who  comprise 
the  company.  The  style  of  these  mirthful  sallies  may  be 
judged  by  the  following: 


84  rooTLiGnT  flashes. 

"  Well,  look  here,"  said  one,  "  what  was  all  this  to  be 
about,  Sandy,  if  it  ever  does  come  off?  " 

"I  expect  it's  a  kind  of  definition  of  the  unknown 
tongue,  which  language,  it  is  evident,  nobody  has  any 
curiosity  to  learn  ;  because,  if  they  had,  they  would  cer- 
tainly have  come," 

"  Wonder  where  he  banks  his  money  ?  "  etc.,  etc. 

These,  and  similar  complimentary  remarks  in  relation 
to  the  different  aspect  of  the  hall  a  few  nights  previous, 
when  the  city  turned  out  in  great  numbers  to  listen  to 
a  professor  with  a  high  sounding  title,  who  let  them  into 
all  the  secrets  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  including  the  con- 
dition of  the  moon's  health  at  certain  seasons  in  its  exis- 
tence, to  which  they  listened  with  a  reverence  and  stolid 
assurance,  that  justified  the  conviction  that  they  perfectly 
comprehended  everything  he  had  been  so  lucidly  describ- 
ing. 

Time  crept  on,  till  at  thirty  minutes  past  the  hour  I 
should  have  commenced,  being  somewhat  disgusted  Avith 
the  proceeding,  I  considered  it  prudent  to  capitulate,  and 
beat  a  retreat.  The  owner  of  the  building  sympathised 
with  my  forlorn  condition ;  and,  proposing  an  invita- 
tion to  his  domicile  to  partake  of  the  hospitality  of  a 
family  supper,  I  saw  the  lights  extinguished,  took  leave 
of  my  facetious,  but  iiseless,  door-keepers,  soon  forgot 
ray  disappointment  over  the  convivial  hilarity  of  the 
well  appointed  table,  and  the  following  morning  left 
Glasgow  with  no  great  regret. 

I  mention  this  incident  in  my  career,  principally  be- 
cause I  never  heard  of  a  similar  instance  where,  after 
preparations  being  duly  and  properly  made  for  an  exhibi- 
tion of  any  sort  or  kind,  not  an  individual  had  the  curi- 
osity to  present  themselves  to  judge  of  its  claims  to 
public  approval. 

The  writer  was  the  first  person   who  had  the  temerity 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  85 

to  occupy  an  evening  on  the  subject  of  this  great  writer's 
works.  He  has  since  had  many  imitators,  and  if  they 
have  only  experienced  half  the  pleasure  he  invariably 
feels  in  discussing  so  agreeable  a  theme,  they  will  be 
well,  and  amply  repaid. 

Another  evening  with  Charles  Dickens  had  a  more  live- 
ly and  pleasurable  result. 

About  the  middle  of  the  month  of  April,  when  one  of 
those  time-honored  storms  had  cleared  the  air  of  its  hazi- 
ness, and  the  swiftly  pacing  clouds  were  traversing  the 
mottled  horizon,  leaving  its  alternate  reflection  of  light 
and  shade  upon  our  path  in  rapid  alternation,  I  was 
wending  my  way  homeward  from  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
after  acting  in  the  farce.  Passing  the  ancient  parish 
church  of  Saint  Giles,  a  tumult  of  female  voices,  in  an- 
giy  conflict,  arrested  my  attention.  It  was,  unfortunate- 
ly, so  frequent  an  inroad  upon  the  sense,  as  well  as  the 
sight  of  those  in  whose  way  this  neighborhood  lay,  that 
it  may  be  little  wonder  I  should  have  passed  it  unheed- 
ed. It  was  late,  and  the  streets  were  mostly  deserted, 
save  by  those  Avhose  career  of  wretchedness  and  crime 
cast  them  out  from  the  comforts  shared  by  the  more  for- 
tunate of  their  fellow  beings.  I  reached  the  entrance 
gate  of  that  magnificent  structure  where  the  has  relievo 
of  the  Last  Supper  has  so  often  excited  the  admiration  of 
the  lover  of  art,  when  my  attention  was  directed  to  a 
gentleman  leaning  with  crossed  arms  against  the  post  in 
front  of  the  church.  It  was  the  great  novelist,  Charles 
Dickens.  He  was  passing,  and  had  been  attracted  by  a 
pugilistic  encounter  between  two  female  unfortunates. 
lie  recognized  me  almost  before  I  saw  him,  and  after  the 
usual  compliments  of  the  evening,  we  walked  towards 
the  Regent's  Park.  My  way  lay  to  Camden  Town,  his 
to  Devonshire  Terrace. 

The  conversation  took  a  dramatic  turn,  of  which  Dick- 


«b  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

ens  was  very  fond,  and  was  (to  us  at  least)  of  such  an 
agreeable  character,  that  I  felt  an  inward  regret  when  I 
reached  a  point  where  we  should  separate.  Our  good 
genius  was  propitious  upon  that  eventful  night,  for  Mr. 
Dickens  had  a  small  party  at  his  house,  whom  he  had 
been  obliged  to  leave  for  a  few  hours  to  attend  a  public 
dinner  in  the  city  ;  and  to  this  party  we  were  kindly  in- 
vited. I  look  back  to  this  accidental  meeting,  with  a 
pleasure  not  easily  effaced. 

As  near  as  I  can  remember  the  jDarty  consisted  of 
Douglas  Jerrold,  Mark  Lemon,  Angus  B,  Reach,  Geo. 
Cruikshank,  John  Leach,  and  two  or  three  others  not  so 
well  known  to  fame. 

The  host  was  in  his  happiest  and  most  genial  vein. 
Jerrold's  grey  eye  sparkled  with  delight  at  every  grand 
coup  he  made  upon  the  company;  and  Lemon  and  Reach 
were  profuse  in  anecdote  and  song.  Cruikshank  and 
Leach  drew  pen  and  ink  sketches  of  every  one  present, 
which  I  regret  I  could  not  obtain  as  mementos  of  such 
men  and  such  an  occasion.  Leech  sent  me  a  note  asking 
the  copy  of  a  song  I  had  just  sang,  the  autograph  from 
which  I  am  pleased  to  say  I  still  retain  as  the  only  rec- 
ord I  was  ever  favored  with  from  an  artist  who  has 
since  passed  away,  after  enriching  the  world  with  those 
matchless  productions  of  his  pencil  which  we  may  look 
in  vain  to  see  equalled  or  approached. 

There  are  in  this  world  of  ours,  matter-of-fact  people, 
whose  materialism  is  of  such  an  aspect  that  they  can  so 
regard  the  actions  and  destinies  of  the  human  family,  as 
to  view  with  perfect  indifference  the  (to  them)  useless 
occupation  of  literary  or  artistic  excellence.  They  gener- 
ally appear  to  live  long,  as  well  as  to  fatten  upon  the  good 
things  of  this  life ;  while  what  they  may  have  gained  by 
toilsome  routine  descends  to  their  thriftless  offspring, 
who  dispose  of  it  with  a  rapidity  far  exceeding  the  pace 
by  which  it  was  acquired. 


POOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  87 

I  liave  no  desire  to  exchange  places  with  these,  and  to 
look  back  to  such  a  night  is  one  of  the  gems  we  gather 
upon  life's  beach,  amid  the  roar  of  the  turgid  and  trouble- 
some element.  It  is  the  sparkling  luminary  to  guide  us 
as  we  buffet  the  surf  and  treacherous  shoals  which  so 
plentifully  beset  us. 

Young  in  years,  and  struggling  for  a  professional  foot- 
hold, I  clung  to  the  words  I  heard  that  night  from  lips  so 
distinguished,  with  an  avidity  none  but  tliose  who  have 
been  similarly  placed,  v^^llether  in  the  field  of  commerce 
or  the  arts,  can  realize. 

The  subjects  of  conversation  were,  happily  forme,  of  a 
dramatic  and  artistic  tone  ;  and  a  joyous  relief  after  a 
dreary  time  I  had  but  just  passed  with  a  young  enthusiast 
who  was  studying  for  the  bar,  to  which  position  I  fear 
his  capacity  can  scarcely  have  permitted  him  to  rise  to 
much  distinction. 

The  day  had  dawned,  and  the  sun  was  struggling  forth 
in  the  manner  so  often  sung  by  our  sweetest  poets,  when 
I  quitted  the  house  of  the  great  novelist.  The  locality, 
and  the  time,  were  the  twin  brothers  of  thought.  No 
wonder  I  paced  those  parterres  of  spring  beauty,  and 
communed  with  my  thoughts  and  their  delicious  sur- 
roundings. 

Apart  from  Dickens,  the  one  whose  name  and  works 
will  ever  be  remembered,  and  whose  pen  has  offered  up 
its  incense  in  behalf  of  suffering  humanity  with  the  hand 
of  a  master,  stands  Douglas  Jerrold.  Oh  Jerrold  !  thou 
great  and  scathing  satirist  of  the  follies  and  heartless- 
ness  of  our  natures,  how  little  did  thy  legion  of  readers 
know  thy  early  and  struggling  history. 

The  drama  of  "  Black-eyed  Susan  "  made  the  fortune  of 
one  manager  who  shall  be  nameless  here,  and  scarcely 
obtained  thee  the  value  of  the  paper  upon  which  it  was 
written. 


88  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Only  those  connected  with  thee  in  the  briery  path  of 
letters  knew  thy  worth  .and  patient  anguish.  The  author 
of  the  "Caudle  Lectures,"  "Story  of  a  Feather,"  etc.  died 
at  the  age  of  56,  in  the  month  of  June  1857,  leaving  to  the 
world  the  best  nautical  drama,  i.e.  "Black-eyed  Susan,"  in 
the  language ;  and  also,  to  my  thinking,  the  most  supe- 
rior comedy  in  "Time  Works  Wonders,"  since  Sheridan. 

Mrs.  Mowatt  and  Mr.  E.  L.  Davenport  made  their 
first  appearance  before  an  English  audience  at  the  Thea- 
tre Royal,  Manchester,  on  the  sixth  of  December,  1847, 
in  the  "  Lady  of  Lyons,"  thus  cast : 

Pauline,  Mrs.  Mowatt ;  Claude,  Mr.  E.  L.  Davenport ; 
Damas,  Mr.  W.  Davidge ;  they  played  three  weeks. 
The  lady's  success  has  received  the  approval  of  the  pub- 
lic by  her  very  tasty  and  poetical  manner  of  recounting 
the  incidents  appertaining  thereto,  under  her  own  signa- 
ture, that  it  would  be  indelicate  and  unbecoming  fur- 
ther to  allude  to  it. 

Mr.  Davenport  was  received  with  great  favor. 

FANNY  KEMBLE  AND  NEGRO  MELODY. 

There  is  a  stubbornness  of  purpose  about  those  who 
cling  to  an  eccentricity,  no  matter  mider  what  guise  it 
presents  itself,  that  is  at  all  times  praiseworthy  as  exem- 
plifying an  independence  of  spirit  and  opinion,  if  it  has 
no  other  virtue  to  recommend  it.  The  pedantry  of  Fan- 
ny Kemble's  illustrious  uncle,  who  would  insist  in  calling 
aches  aiches  was  a  peculiarity  that  gave  rise  to  much 
discussion  ;  but  I  must  claim  for  Mrs.  Butler  the  credit 
of  having  distanced  the  classic  John,  by  introducing  a 
verse  of  a  popular  negro  melody,  descriptive  of  a  voy- 
age down  the  Ohio  river  in  company  with  a  boatman,  in 
the  third  act  of  the  "  School  for  Scandal." 

The   audience   were  somewhat  taken   aback  by   this 


FOOTLTGIIT   FLASHES.  89 

rendering  of  the  cliaracter  of  Lady  Teazle,  and  stared  at 
each  other  with  mute  astonishment  and  wondm- ! 

This  lady's  engagement  commenced  under  the  most  flat- 
tering auspices  inmediately  on  her  return  from  America, 
in  1847.  Her  first  performance  at  Manchester  was  in  the 
"  Hunchback,"  Gustavus  Brooke,  the  Master  Walter ;  J.  S. 
Browne,  the  Lord  Tinsel,  and  W.  Davidge,  Fatham. 
She  played  six  nights,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the 
number  of  visiters  to  the  theatre  decreased  perceptibly 
at  each  representation. 


CHAPTER  XL 

"  Ay,  and  greater  wonders  than  that. ' ' 

As  you  like  it.     Act  5.     Scene  2. 

THE   PARSOI^,   AKD    THE    PLATER. 

FoLKSTONE,  in  Kent,  had  a  saucy,  rakish  kind  of  look 
about  it,  as  we  threaded  the  mazes  of  the  circuitous 
streets  about  noon  in  autumn,  after  a  delightful  walk  over 
the  gigantic  cliffs,  from  Dover. 

It  was  once  asserted  by  a  gentleman  who  found  it 
necessary  to  migrate  to  the  shores  of  France  very  fre- 
quently, for  the  benefit  of  an  exhausted  exchequer,  that 
Folkstone  was  designed,  and  laid  out,  by  some  benefi- 
cent ruler  who  had  inbibed  an  insatiable  desire  for  con- 
tracting debts  he  was  unable,  or  iinwilling  to  liquidate  ; 
and  certainly  the  difficulty  of  penetrating  to  any  given 
point,  by  any,  save  a  native,  and  the  further  impossibility 
of  extricating  yourself,  rather  favored  the  idea  of  its  im- 
pregnability to  the  interference  of  importunate  creditors. 

In  days  gone  by,  the  smuggler  plied  his  busy  and  prof- 
itable trade  at  all  available  points  in  its  vicinity  ;  and,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  write,  there  were  those  settled  down 
into  the  outward  guise  of  respectable  commerce,  who  had, 
in  the  spring  time  of  their  youth,  landed  many  a  keg  of 
contraband  liquor,  the  profits  from  which  had  raised 
them  to  their  present  pecuniary  consequence. 

At  a  small,  compact  house,  the  rear  of  which,  when  the 
weather  was  clear,  afforded  a  splendid  view  of  the  cliffs 
across  the   channel,  I  found  comfortable,  and   economic 


FOOTLIGnT   FLASHES.  Ml 

accommodation.  The  latter,  at  that  particular  juncture  a 
most  necessary,  and  desirable  negotiation,  inasmuch  as  I 
had  discovered,  after  reaching  Dover  by  the  ordinary 
conveyacne  from  London,  that  the  manager,  who  presid- 
ed over  the  destinies  of  the  dramatic  establishment 
there,  had  suddenly,  and  somewhat  heartlessly,  changed 
his  mind  in  regard  to  the  period  of  his  projected  occupan- 
cy of  the  theatre  ;  leaving  his  company  to  shift  for  them- 
selves, in  the  interim,  as  best  they  could. 

Folkstone  is  not  a  place  I  would  conscientiously  ad- 
vise an  enthusiast  in  art,  whether  music,  painting,  or  the 
drama,  to  visit  professionally,  with  a  view  to  the  acquisi- 
tion of  great  pecuniary  reward.  Its  population  are  for 
the  most  part  engaged  in  excursions  upon  the  ocean  for 
the  capture  of  fish  wherewith  to  supply  the  wants  of  the 
London  consumers,  and  are  frequently,  by  adverse  winds, 
blown  upon  the  French  coast ;  thei*e  to  repose  until  the 
great  Boreas  changes  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and 
drifts  them  back  again  to  their  own  habitations. 

The  dramatic  season  commenced  in  a  few  days  after 
my  arrival,  with  that  negative  kind  of  success  which  left 
the  members  of  the  company  in  extreme  doubt  whether 
they  would  receive  sufficient  to  enable  them  to  pay  their 
way  for  the  two  months  it  was  proposed  to  occupy  the 
building.  One  night,  the  house  would  look  dreary  and 
deserted;  another,  it  would  be  honored  by  the  presence 
and  patronage  of  the  mayor,  and  corporation,  or  the 
members  of  parliament  for  the  county.  .  On  the  latter 
interesting  occasion,  even  those  who  entertained  scruples 
in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  dramatic  representations, 
waived  their  objections  in  honor  of  the  guardian  of  their 
rights  and  privileges  before  the  august  House  of  Com- 
mons. 

Li  the  company  was  an  actor  whose  name  was  Moine. 
lie  had  a  wife,  and  two  children,  the  former  somewhat 


92  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

sickly,  and  the  latter  too  young  to  be  of  any  pecuniary 
advantage  to  the  household. 

Moine  was  a  studious  man  not  only  in  his  profession, 
but  he  had  considerable  skill  in  painting,  and  spent  all 
his  leisure  time  in  sketching  the  beauties  of  nature.  He 
was  also  a  constant  frequenter  of  the  Episcopal  church. 
I  mention  this  not  as  an  exception  to  those  of  his  class, 
but  as  a  prelude  to  the  conduct  of  the  story.  The  other 
members  of  the  company,  who  paid  their  devotion  to 
the  same  form  of  religious  worship  had  nothing  remarka- 
ble in  their  appearance  to  attract  attention  as  they  quiet- 
ly took  their  seats  the  first  Sunday  morning  after  their 

arrival,  at  the  church  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  R ,  but  in  Moine 

there  was  a  peculiarity  difficult  to  define ;  as  with  his 
two  children  he  waited  for  the  pew  opener  to  place  him 
in  some  unoccupied  spot. 

It  was  evident  that  the  congregation,  as  well  as  the 
pastor,  could  not  avoid  noticing  the  new  worshipper 
every  time  he  uttered  the  responses  in  a  voice  of  much 
power  and  richness. 

Yery  soon  each  member  of  the  company  became  known 
by  sight  to  the  attendants  of  the  church,  some  of  whom, 
being  play-goers,  rather  exceeded  the  bounds  of  religious 
decorum  by  the  manner  in  which  they  would  scan  us  as 
we  entered  the  edifice. 

The  sun  was  setting  on  the  evening  of  a  beautiful  day 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of  August.  The  ocean 
had  just  recovered  from  a  storm  of  the  previous  day, 
and  now  lay  sullenly  depositing  the  results  of  its  fury 
upon  the  coast  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  A  fishing 
party  had  just  reached  the  beach,  and  were  proceeding 
to  haul  in  the  proceeds  of  their  adventure ;  when,  in 
turning  the  corner  of  a  road  at  the  summit  of  the  cliff, 
the  parson  came  upon  the  player  in  the  act  of  sketching 
the  picture. 


FOOTLIGIIT   FLASHES.  93 

It  was  a  pleasant  meeting  to  both.  The  parson  speed- 
ily discovered,  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  an  artist  of 
no  mean  ability  ;  while  the  player  found  a  sympathy  in 
appreciation,  common  only  among  intellects  of  the  high- 
est order. 

When  the  darkness  came  on,  and  the  player  closed  his 
sketch  book,  the  pair  walked  in  company  towards  the 
town,  and  separated  for  the  night. 

At  the  circulating  library  of  all  watering  places,  may 
be  found  a  class  of  idlers  whose  nominal  object  for  their 
presence  there,  is  to  enjoy  rational  and  social  intercourse 
on  matters  of  j^ublic  and  j^olitical  interest ;  but  whose 
rtc^?<rtZ  amusement,  is  to  appease  their  appetite  for  scan- 
dal. Folkstone  was  not  a  whit  behind  in  this  popular  ac- 
complishmeDt,  and  freely  canvassed  the  impropriety  of  a 
recognition  by  their  divine,  of  a  erson  so  far  beneath  him 
as  his  companion  of  the  previous  evening ;  and  it  was 
matter  for  the  deepest  concern  in  the  minds  of  his  ad- 
mirers, as  well  as  dangerous  to  the  best  interests  of  reli- 
gious teaching. 

The  winter  came  on  with  great  severity,  and  caused  a 
depression  in  the  trade  of  the  town,  which  had  the  effect 
of  closing  the  theatre  from  lack  of  patronage ;  leaving 
Moine  withovit  the  means  of  quitting  the  place,  even  could 
he  have  found  another  field  for  his  j^rofessional  labors, 
which  was  doubtful.  All  the  positions  worth  having 
were  already  occupied,  and  managers  are  shy  of  engag- 
ing persons  of  whose  name  they  never  heard,  and  of 
whose  ability  they  are  equally  ignorant. 

Christmas  had  just  passed,  and  still  no  sign  of  employ- 
ment. The  parson  had  become  by  this  time  quite  inti- 
mate with  the  family  of  the  player,  despite  the  parochial 
proscription,  and  called  frequently  to  see  them,  invariably 
laden  with  some  little  compliment  for  the  children,  of 
whom  he  grew  quite  fond.     He  was  himself  a  lover  of 


94  FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES. 

painting,  and  could  sketch  a  little.  No  wonder  then  that 
he  embraced  every  leisure  hour  to  watch  the  painter  at 
his  easel. 

He  saw  plainly  the  embarrassed  condition  of  his  ncAV- 
ly  found  acquaintance,  but  delicacy  for  the  feelings  of  an 
over  sensitive  nature,  prevented  any  allusion  to  it. 

It  was  snowing  hard,  and  the  wind  blowing  fiercely 
from  all  points  of  the  compass,  as  it  appeared  to  Moine, 
when  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  street  near  the  market 
place,  carrying  under  his  arm  a  hastily  painted  picture, 
then  scarcely  dry,  of  a  view  upon  the  coast.  The  same 
day  might  be  seen  exhibited  in  a  window  in  the  principal 
street  of  the  town  a  little  gem  of  art,  with  a  label  attach- 
ed to  it,  to  the  efiect  that  it  might  be  purchased  at  a 
small  price  ;  and  further,  that  the  author  of  it  would  be 
glad  to  receive  a  few  pupils  for  instruction  in  oil-painting, 
at  moderate  cost. 

The  next  day,  the  player  watched  with  eagerness  the 
sevei-al  passers  by  who  stopped  to  scan  his  last  effort,  and 
listened  to  the  comments  freely  made  thereon.  When  he 
returned  to  his  lodgings,  his  eldest  child  met  him  with 
surprise  upon  her  face,  and  with  difficulty  told  him  that  a 
lady  and  gentleman  had  called  in  their  carriage  to  enquire 
for  him,  and  leaving  their  address,  had  requested  that  he 
would  attend  upon  them  at  their  residence  the  following- 
day. 

The  parson  was  in  his  study  compiling  a  sermon  for  the 
next  Sabbath,  when  Moine,  somewhat  elated,  convey- 
ed to  hira  the  pleasing  fact  that  he  had  a  prospect  of 
employment. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Moine,  you  will  doubtless  find  in 
them  profitable  patrons.  The  gentleman  is  wealthy, 
and  a  man  of  leisure,  as  well  as  a  lover  of  art !  His 
wife,  however,  is  somewhat  eccentric,  and  may  propound 
questions  on  matters  of  which  she  is  entirely  ignorant. 
You  must,  therefore,  be  prepared  for  her,"  said  the  parson. 


FOOTLIGIIT   FLASHES,  "95 

Thanking  his  patvon  and  friend  for  this  valuable  hint, 
the  player  withdrew  to  ponder  on  the  chance  of  success  in 
his  newly  advertised  career,  and  Avas  up  betimes  in  the 
morning,  working  at  his  easel  with  brighter  hopes  than 
he  had  indulged  in  for  many  a  day. 

A  beautiful  villa  upon  an  eminence  commanding  a  view 
of  the  sea,  was  the  spot  to  which  he  directed  his  steps  at 
the  appointed  time. 

A  philosopher  once  asserted,  that  in  order  to  form  a 
correct  estimate  of  a  man's  claim  to  a  position  in  the 
world  of  taste,  it  was  not  necessary  to  scan  the  individu- 
al himself,  but  merely  guage  him  by  the  quality  of  his 
pictures.  The  painter  soon  discovered  that  he  was  be- 
neath the  roof  of  one  who  could  foirly  boast  the  posses- 
sion of  a  knowledge  of  the  beautiful,  and  the  good  for- 
tune to  have  ample  means  to  indulge  in  the  luxury. 

A  bargain  was  soon  made  for  the  work  so  recently  ex- 
hibited, and  a  contract  entered  into  for  another  as  com- 
l^anion  to  it,  with  a  request  that  the  purchaser  have  the 
one  already  finished  the  following  day,  for  which  a  check 
would  be  ready. 

From  this  day  the  star  of  Moine  was  in  the  ascendant. 
It  soon  became  noised  about  that  the  beautiful  marine 
view,  by  an  unknown  artist,  lately  exhibited  in  a  shop- 
window  of  the  town,  had  been  purchased  for  a  goodly 

amount  by  the  wealthy  Mr. ,  and  commissions  to  an 

unlimited  extent  given  the  painter,  for  more. 

A  sudden  and  irrepressible  desire  was  speedily  ob- 
served to  manifest  itself  for  pictures  by  the  fortunate  ar- 
tist, from  persons  whose  slumbering  taste  for  art  had  just 
awoke  to  the  consciousness,  that  truthful  copies  of  the 
beauties  of  nature  was  a  great  humanizer  of  their  species, 
and  quite  impossible  to  be  dispensed  with. 

It  was  not  long  before  it  became  noised  about,  that  the 
artist,  whose  pictures  were  in  such  request,  was  none  oth- 


96  FOOTLIGIIT   FLASHES. 

er  than  a  member  of  the  theatrical  company  whose  pres- 
ence had  been  a  subject  of  comment  in  certain  high 
quarters ;  the  terrible  discovery,  like  other  local  afflic- 
tions, went  through  its  various  stages  in  strict  accordance 
with  nature's  laws,  and  was  superseded  by  an  act  of  great 
atrocity  on  the  part  of  a  portionless,  but  well  favored 
youth  ;  who  had,  without  permission  of  those  {lohortx  it 
did  not  concern)  taken  to  wife  the  first  born  of  a  wealthy 
resident,  and  the  belle  of  the  neighborhood. 

By  the  kindly  influence  of  the  parson,  the  prejudice 
began  to  disappear  to  such  an  extent,  that  men  of  high 
moral  notions  commenced  a  series  of  patronizing  recog- 
nitions when  they  encountered  the  player  in  their  ram- 
bles, and  assured  him  that  his  position  in  their  esteem 
was  duly  registered. 

His  fame  became  a  matter  for  complimentary  notices, 
and  led  to  an  offer  from  the  great  metropolis  as  assistant 
to  a  distinguished  scene  j^ainter.  It  was  a  few  days  prior  to 
his  dej^arture,  that  the  parson  gave  a  small  party  to  his 
personal  friends.  Moine  w^as  one  of  the  number ;  and 
as  it  was  the  last  opportunity  he  could  have  of  enjoying 
the  society  of  his  patron  before  he  left  the  town,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  he  lingered,  while  the  rest  of  the  guests  de- 
parted, to  take  his  farewell. 

They  adjourned  to  the  library,  Avhere  the  parson  pro- 
posed to  append  his  autograph  to  a  volume,  from  his 
large  store  of  literary  gems,  for  the  painter's  acceptance. 

Seated  at  the  table  where  he  compiled  the  discourses 
that  so  satisfied  his  hearers  of  the  purity  of  his  nature 
and  consistency  of  his  religious  faith,  did  the  parson,  for 
the  first  time  during  their  acquaintanceship,  recount  the 
struggle  he  had  experienced  with  many  of  his  congrega- 
tion, on  the  supposed  impropriety  of  the  profession  to 
which  the  painter,  as  an  actor,  also  belonged. 

"My  dear  friend,"  he  continued,    "  you  would  be  much 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  97 

amused  could  you  be  a  listener,  as  I  have  been,  of  the 
absurd  objections  urged  against  an  amusement,  as  well  as 
source  of  instruction,  that  millions  of  our  fellow  creatures 
look  upon  as  an  absolute  necessity.  I  have  been  solicit- 
ed numberless  times  to  deliver  what  they  are  pleased  to 
call  admonitory  sermons  on  the  subject,  for  the  purpose 
of  guarding  the  youth  of  the  district  against  the  evils 
that  surround  them,  if  they  indulge  in  rational  recreation  ; 
and  I  have  always  fenced  with  the  difficulty  of  an  at- 
tempt to  satisfy  them  of  the  delusion  they  labor  under, 
and  thus  avoided  making  the  absurd  attempt.  My  friend 
Mr.  B of  Sheffield,  one  of  the  most  powerful  oppo- 
nents of  the  stage,  and  who  preaches  an  annual  sermon 
on  the  subject,  once  admitted  to  me,  that  he  only  did  so 
in  obedience  to  a  promise  he  had  made  many  years  before, 
and  that  no  one  was  more  conscious  of  the  fallacy  of  the 
attempt,  than  himself  My  acquaintanceship  with  you 
has  given  me  what  I  much  desired,  namely,  it  has  placed 
me  in  a  position  to  be  able  to  scrutinize  the  social  con- 
dition of  members  of  the  profession  to  which  you  belong  ; 
and  I  am  pleased  to  observe,  that  I  can  see  no  visible  dif- 
ference between  them,  and  persons  engaged  in  matters  of 
trade,  or  commerce,  save  that  their  education  is  mostly 
superior,  and  they  are  a  great  deal  more  artless  in  their 
business  transactions."  "This,"  said  he,  "has  fully  con- 
firmed me  in  the  conclusions  I  had  formed  in  my  own  mind, 
because  I  saw  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  so !  Further, 
I  cannot  help  believing  that  many  of  my  clerical  brethren 
are  not  quite  as  orthodox  as  they  would  have  the  world 
believe  ;  for,  when  I  was  last  in  London,  I  observed  two  of 
them  at  a  place  of  entertainment  they  would  not  venture 
to  approach  in  their  own  diocese.  I  am  thus  impressed 
with  the  belief,  that  the  clergy,  speaking  collectively, 
prefer  to  acquiesce  in  the  objections  of  their  over  zealous 
flocks,  rather  than  attempt  the  fruitless  eftbrt  of  convinc- 
6 


98  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

ing  them  of  their  error.  Let  us  however  turn  to  more 
interesting  matter,  and  before  you  leave,  enter  into  a 
compact  to  correspond  with  each  other  periodically  and 
faithfully,  and  I  need  not  assure  you,  that  no  one  can 
more  desire  to  jjerpetuate  our  friendship,  than  myself." 

The  player  and  painter  grasped  the  hand  of  his  patron, 
and,  scarcely  able  to  express  his  gratitude,  promised  to 
write  constantly  a  record  of  his  doings. 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly  and,  as  the  player 
unsnapped  the  wicket  of  the  gate,  he  turned,  and  beheld 
the  kindly  features  of  the  parson  smiling  an  adieu. 

The  compact  was  most  zealously  kept  on  both  sides, 
for  several  years;  and  an  interchange  of  thought  and 
sentiment  duly  enjoyed,  and  appreciated. 

"Within  the  church,  that  so  often  echoed  with  the  voice 
of  the  parson,  is  placed  a  tablet  modestly  inscribed  to 
the  memory  of  him  who  was  beyond  reproach  as  a  man 
and  equaled  by  few  as  a  theologian ;  while  the  player 
and  painter  still  lives,  at  the  summit  of  his  art,  in  daily 
communion  with  the  greatest  celebrities  of  the  age. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  I  have  seen  drunkards  do  more  than  this." 

King  Lear.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

THE    DEUNKEN    ACTOR. 

The  streets  of  London  were  begrimed  with  the  refuse 
of  a  good  old  fashioned  snow  storm,  swelling  its  gutters 
and  gullies  to  their  utmost  capacity.  A  rapid  thaw  cast 
a  glow  of  premature  spring  over  an  evening  in  the  month 
of  February,  as  a  man  past  the  meridian  of  life  presented 
himself  at  the  stage  door  of  the  Olympic  Theatre,  and 
sought  to  renew  an  acquaintanceship  that  had,  from 
untoward  circumstances,  ceased  for  many  years. 

He  was  but  poorly  accoutred  to  resist  the  inclemency 
of  the  season's  severity.  Yet,  from  long  habit  of  breast- 
ing the  terrors  of  poverty,  assumed  an  aspect  of  partial 
cheerfulness  and  content. 

I  Avas  made  cognizant  of  his  presence  by  the  stage 
door  keeper,  who  sent  to  my  dressing  room  the  following 
written  in  pencil  on  the  back  of  a  play  bill : 

"  Long  ago,  nearly  as  long  as  when  Douglas  Jerrold 
introduced  us  to  a  William  that  married  Susan,  we  knew 
a  William  who  wedded  himself  to  our  dearest  affections, 
and  regard.  Though  hard  fortune  has  furi'owed  our 
cheeks,  and  the  implacable  and  stern  despot.  Time,  silvered 
our  once  raven  locks,  the  recollection  of  happier  days 
blooms  as  vei'dantly  as  ever*.  If  our  William's  memory 
be  not  impaired  by  the  fond  caresses  of  Croesus,  conjointly 


100  rOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

with  the  mythological  individual  who  exercises  his  musi- 
cal abilities  upon  a  trumpet,  y'clept  "fame,"  and  will 
mingle  hearts,  one  is  waiting  at  the  back  door  to  join 
issue  in  the  conflict. 

John  J.  L." 

As  soon  as  convenience  would  permit,  I  sought  the  au- 
thor of  the  above,  and  tendered  him  a  hearty  welcome. 
We  had  not  seen  each  other  for  ten  years,  and  his  name 
had  disappeared  from  theatrical  circles. 

The  weather  had  suddenly  veered  round,  the  moon 
was  shining  with  an  intensity  that  cast  all  objects  outside 
its  refraction  into  the  folds  of  darkness,  as  I  emerged, 
with  my  old  acquaintance,  from  the  stage  door,  and  speed- 
ily found  a  warm,  and  cheerful  spot  where  we  sought  a 
retrospect  of  our  past  history. 

My  companion  was  a  man  of  liberal  education  ;  tutored 
in  the  early  part  of  his  career  for  the  study  and  practice 
of  medicine,  for  which  pursuit  he  felt  no  congeniality  ; 
but  rather,  (as  many  have  done  before,  and  since)  court- 
ed the  blandishments  of  the  tragic  muse,  who  artfully 
engulphed  him  in  her  merciless  meshes. 

The  finer  and  more  acute  emotions  of  an  ingenuous 
nature  are  frequently  placed  in  array  against  the  chicane- 
ry of  arrogant  pretension,  or  ignorant  vulgarity  ;  conse- 
quently my  friend  was  ever  in  a  state  of  declension  with 
those  into  whose  power  he  might  happen  to  fall. 

He  had  brought  up  a  large  flxmily  upon  very  scanty 
means,  all  of  whom  were  dead,  save  one,  whose  assist- 
ance he  could  never  be  pi-evailed  upon  to  solicit ;  be- 
cause he  had  unjustly,  (but  as  he  believed  for  the  best) 
opposed  her  union  with  a  person  in  whom  he  had  no 
confidence. 

When  we  had  exhausted  every  enquiry  respecting  the 
fate,  or   whereabout   of  old   associates,  he   extracted   a 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  101 

promise  that  we  would  pay  him  a  visit  on  the  following 
day.  Taking  his  address  for  that  purpose,  we  parted  for 
the  night,  and  as  he  reached  the  corner,  a  violent  gust  of 
wind,  having  a  contrary  destination,  met  him  at  full  tilt, 
and  seemed  determined  to  change  his  course.  At  the 
imminent  j^eril  of  being  blown  off  his  legs,  he  grasped  his 
hat  with  both  hands,  tacked  against  the  enemy,  and  was 
soon  beyond  the  limits  of  our  observation. 

The  water  side,  as  pleasure  seekers  regard  it,  is  a  place 
with  associations  of  healthful  immersions  during  the 
warm  season  of  the  year;  or  a  contemplation  of  the 
wonderful  power  of  Nature's  laws,  while  you  view  its  an- 
gry foaming,  as  it  lashes  itself  into  fury,  during  the  peal- 
ing of  the  angry  storm. 

Rotherithe  is  considered  by  the  genuine,  lanadulterated 
Londoner,  to  be  at  the  Avater  side.  It  has  an  aquat- 
ic tone  about  it  that  affords  an  agreeable  zest  to  the  pent 
up  cockney,  who  makes  occasional  forays  upon  it  during 
the  cessation  from  his  weekly  labor.  It  is  a  suburb  that 
has  for  years  been  struggling  under  the  difficulty  of 
gradually  using  its  characteristics  as  a  watering  place, 
without  acquiring  much  landed  privilege  as  an  equiva- 
lent for  its  loss.  I  found  myself  next  day  threading 
the  mazes  of  this  amphibious  dwelling  place,  at  a  time 
when  the  air  was  fetid  with  the  fumes  of  bilge  water, 
and  stagnant  pools  of  rank  garbage,  in  odoriferous  con- 
junction. 

A  small  frame  building,  or  shed,  very  much  out  of  the 
perpendicular,  and  reclining  at  an  angle  of  about  twenty 
degrees  against  one  of  the  arches  of  the  Greenwich  rail- 
road, contained  the  object  of  my  seai'ch  ;  where,  I  could 
not  help  reflecting,  nothing  but  the  direst  necessity  could 
induce  a  fellow  creature  to  linger  out  an  existence.  The 
approach  to  it  was  across  a  plot  of  ground  digusting  to  the 
sight,  and  clammy  to  the  tread.     As  far  as  the  eye  could 


102  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

reach  ran  tlae  arches  of  the  raih-oad  company,  those  resting 
places  for  the  beggar  and  the  outcast,  some  of  its  miser- 
able occupants  huddled  in  corners,  and  scrutinizing  with 
a  wistful  aspect,  the  cold  victuals  charity  had  donated 
them  during  their  morning's  importunity.  It  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  the  laudable  attempts  at  vegetation  here 
and  thei-e  manifest,  did  not  appear  to  be  attended  with  a 
very  fertile  result.  The  population  were  evidently  en- 
gaged at  their  ordinary  occupation  ;  but  the  hogs,  those 
monarchs  of  luxurious  leisure,  rambled  and  wallowed, 
perfect  masters  of  the  soil.  A  very  small  girl,  wrapped 
in  a  very  small  and  gauzy  shawl,  but  wearing  a  bonnet 
of  such  astounding  dimensions  that  it  evidently  Avas  the 
personal  property  of  the  maternal  head  of  the  family, 
emerged  from  a  side  door,  carrying  in  her  hand  a  brown 
pitcher,  crossed  my  path.  Of  her,  I  enquired  for  the 
person  I  had  come  to  visit.  She  pointed  out  the  place,  and 
as  I  moved  away,  a  mongrel  dog,  the  color  of  his  skin  en 
tirely  obliterated  from  a  recent  ablution  in  the  mud,  came 
running  across  an  open  space,  Avith  a  growl  of  discontent 
at  the  presence  of  a  stranger. 

My  friend's  tenement  I  presumed  was  a  flur  sample  of 
the  rest,  and  boasted  little  in  the  shape  of  comfort,  and 
certainly  nothing  in  the  form  of  luxury.  A  common 
table,  and  two  or  three  chairs,  with  a  sleeping  spot  upon 
an  old  sofa,  formed  nearly  the  entire  inventory  of  the 
place. 

My  friend  had  lost  his  jovial  aspect  of  the  previous 
night,  and  was  engaged  at  the  table  writing,  when  I  en- 
tered in  obedience  to  his  summons.  After  finishing  the 
sentence  on  which  he  was  employed,  he  rose  to  greet  me 
and  placed  a  chair  for  my  use.  I  looked  with  a  feeling 
of  sadness  upon  the  wreck  I  saw  before  me,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded to  brighten  up  the  almost  expired  fire  with  a  few 
sticks,  and   a  cake   of  turf.     Gradually   I   ventured   to 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  103 

touch  upon  his  present  condition,  propounding  questions 
relative  to  the  causes  tliat  had  led  to  it. 

He  had  hoped,  he  said,  to  be  relieved  from  the  pain  of 
recapitulating  the  disasters  of  his  career ;  because  he 
could  find  few  in  the  profession  who  were  ready  to  be- 
stow adequate  sympathy  for  all  his  efforts  to  fight  the 
battle  of  dramatic  life  against  the  most  terrible  odds. 

I  assured  him  I  was  personally  desirous  to  offer  my 
most  sincere  regrets  that  misfortune  should  have  so  dealt 
Avith  one  for  whom,  during  a  pretty  long  professional  ac- 
quaintanceship, I  had  always  entertained  the  highest  re- 
spect. Striving  to  admonish  him  for  his  good,  hoping  it 
might  not  be  too  late,  with  firmness  of  purpose,  to  restore 
himself  to  an  eminence  he  could  so  easily  assume,  by 
attention  and  sobriety. 

He  heard  me  through  without  interruption,  and  when 
I  had  finished,  crossed  to  where  I  was  seated,  grasped  my 
hand,  resumed  his  walk  about  the  room,  as  the  tears 
started  to  his  eyes,  despite  his  efforts  to  check  them. 

Presently  he  appeared  to  be  relieved,  and  proceeded. 

"  When  I  first  knew  you,  I  had  bright  hopes  of  a  pros- 
perous business  future.  My  name  stood  well  in  all  dra- 
matic circles,  and  I  was  petted,  and  caressed  by  the  public. 
My  disposition  was  not  proof  against  the  blandishments 
of  convivial  enjoyment,  and  the  misrej^resentations  of 
false  prophets.  To  assist,  as  I  then  believed,  the  exigen- 
cies of  the  theatre,  I  yielded  to  the  wish  of  the  manage- 
ment, and  resigned  parts  that  I  had  long  been  in  pos- 
session of,  for  others  of  an  inferior  grade.  After  a  season 
or  two,  I  found"  myself  gradually,  but  surely,  receding  in 
public  esteem  as  an  actor,  with  the  manager,  as  well  as 
his  patrons.  In  assigning  parts,  the  autocrat  of  the 
theatre  didn't  consider  it  good  generalship  to  place  me 
in  a  prominent  position,  after  what  I  had  been  lately 
personating.     He  was  callous  to  the  fact  that  I  had,  to 


104  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

spare  him  a  larger  expenditure,  beggared  my  fortunes, 
and  ruined  my  future  prospects.  My  income  began  seri- 
ously to  diminish  ;  with  that  came  the  humiliation  of  dan- 
cing attendance  upon  every  speculator  who  might  hire  a 
theatre  for  a  month  or  two,  without  the  slightest  notion 
of  meeting  his  liabilities  should  the  public  fail  to  patro- 
nize the  imbecility  of  his  system  of  management.  My 
wife  fell  sick  during  my  long  cessation  from  business.  I 
saw  her  gradually  fading  from  my  sight ;  my  children 
were  often  clamorous  for  food,  and  I  have  rushed  from 
the  house  with  a  heavy  heart  and  sinking  spirit;  hop- 
ing in  my  despair  that  death  would  soon  relieve  us  all. 
Credit,  of  course,  I  had  none.  /  was  an  actor.  And 
ignorance  had  set  its  seal  of  doubt  upon  the  honesty  of 
the  race. 

"My  spirit  gave  way  beneath  this  load  of  misery;  my 
wife  died;  my  children  were  sinking  with  the  similar  af- 
fliction that  had  deprived  me  of  her ;  and  I  flew  to  drink, 
to  obliterate  the  misery  with  which  1  was  encompassed. 
My  professional  brethren  were  sad  at  the  contemplation 
looming  for  me  in  the  future  ;  while  some  few  of  them 
(afiectingto  symphathize  with  my  condition)  were  covert- 
ly assigning  as  a  reason  for  my  lack  of  employment,  that, 
hitherto,  the  force  of  circumstances  had  elevated  me  much 
above  my  deserts ;  that  now  I  had  found  my  proper  level, 
and  must  be  content  with  parts  of  minor  importance.  I 
learned  this,  by  letter  from  a  stranger,  who  had  heard  me 
thus  alluded  to  by  persons  who,  in  my  presence,  affected 
to  feel  great  interest  in  my  well  doing. 

"  My  life  became  hateful  to  me  !  My  youngest  child  was 
fast  sinking.  I  had  no  means  wherewith  to  purchase  ne- 
cessaries, and,  but  for  the  kindness  of  a  lady  member  of 
the  profession,  she  would  have  cheated  nature,  and  expir- 
ed from  want,  ere  comsumption  would  exercise  its  terri- 
ble sway.     My  stage  properties  began  to  disappear  one 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  105 

by  one.  The  friends  I  occasionally  met  would,  unthinking- 
1}',  add  fuel  to  my  already  heated  brain,  by  inviting  me 
to  drink,  but  none  offered  me  food,  which  I  stood  so  much 
in  need  of. 

"One  night,  the  weather  was  intensely  hot,  I  was  alone 
with  my  child,  without  a  light,  for  I  had  no  means  to  pur- 
chase a  candle.  Wearied  with  fruitless  efforts  to  procure 
comforts  for  my  dying  child,  I  was  dozing  heavily ;  the 
moonlight  streamed,  with  an  opaque  mistiness,  into  the 
room,  and  the  spirit  of  ray  little  one  was  calmly  drifting  to 
its  ebb.  I  rose  hastily,  for  I  thought  I  heard  the  dying  one 
call  for  drink.  The  church  clock  struck  two  as  I  approach- 
ed the  window  to  obtain  what  I  needed.  When  I  reached 
it,  the  room  was  much  obscured  by  dark  clouds,  but  I  saw 
or  thought  I  did,  the  figure  of  my  wife.  My  whole  body 
L«^came  suffused  with  perspiration.  I  tried  to  speak,  but 
was  imable  to  utter  a  sound.  Actions  of  my  life,  long 
forgotten,  came  back  upon  my  memory,  with  the  freshness 
of  yesterday,  as  we  are  told  thoughts  crowd  upon  the 
mind  of  the  drowning ;  and  I  staggered  with  affright. 

"When  I  came  to  myself  my  patient  had  ceased  her  heavy 
breathing,  and  lay  with  eyes  fixed  upon  where  the  vision 
of  her  mother  was,  with  the  filmy  hue  of  rapidly  approach- 
ing death,  I  threw  myself  upon  my  knees  beside  her, 
j;nd  thought  my  heart  would  break.  She  stretched  out 
her  slim  hand  towards  me,  and  smilingly  whispered, 

"  '  Dear  father,  you  saw  her  ?  so  did  I.  You  will  live 
happily  when  I  am  not  an  expense  to  you  ;  think  of  dear 
mother,  and  me.     God  bless  you,  dear  father. ' 

"  I  took  her  fragile  form  in  my  embrace,  and  kissed  her 
pale  lips.  A  final  adieu  left  its  flickering  breath  upon  my 
fiice,  as  she  passed  quietly  away.  I  resolved  never  to  touch 
liquor  again,  and  have  strictly  adhered  to  my  determina- 
tion. My  character  for  sobriety  has  long  been  forfeited, 
and  no  one  would  give  me  credit  for  resistance.     I  eke  out 


106  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

a  scanty  living  by  writing  stories  of  the  sensation  orden 
for  cheap  publications ;  but  the  pay  is  barely  sufficient  to 
sustain  life,  and  the  degradation  bitter  enough,  heaven 
knows !  For  hours  do  I  sit  here  penning  incidents  of  fash- 
ionable life,  without  very  congenial  surroundings  for  the 
task.  I  have  been  so  long  out  of  the  profession,  that  I 
doubt  if  I  could  fulfill  the  duties  of  a  situation  were  I  for- 
tunate enough  to  obtain  one." 

I  entreated  him  not  to  desiDair, —  that  all  men  had  met 
with  reverses,  and  every  unfortunate  considered  his  afflic- 
tion more  poignant  than  his  fellow  creatures'.  I  would 
exert  the  little  influence  I  had  —  it  was  not  much  —  to  re- 
lieve him  from  his  present  position. 

He  thanked  me,  but  had  no  hope  of  my  success.  Roll- 
ing up  the  sheets  of  a  manuscript,  he  accompanied  me 
on  the  way  to  town,  quitting  me  in  the  Strand,  where  he 
disappeared  among  the  horde  of  cheap  publication  offices 
that  infest  Holywell  street. 

I  was  successful  on  my  friend's  behalf.  I  found  a  mana- 
ger who  had  himself  been  the  victim  of  intemperance,  but 
had  bravely  conquered  the  enemy.  Under  his  sympathet- 
ic care  the  "Drunken  Actor  "  lived  in  comfort  and  respect- 
ability, assuming  his  former  position  as  an  artist,  a  worthy 
exemplar  to  his  brethren  of  the  buskin,  whom  it  is  most 
earnestly  desired  will  follow  in  his  penitent  pathway. 

OXBERRT  AND  THE  LEATHER  BREECHES. 

Little  Billy  Oxberry,  whose  happy,  genial  countenance 
sadly  belied  the  bent  of  a  nature  suffering  under  the  pres- 
sure of  inertness  and  hypochondria,  was,  in  the  year 
1837,  stage  manager  of  the  Victoria  Theatre,  London.  I 
was  engaged  on  the  establishment  at  the  time,  to  play 
second  old  men.  The  part  of  Grainger  in  the  "  Miller's 
Maid  "  fell  to  our  lot,  Oxberry  being  the  Matty  Marvellous, 
The  two  characters  in  one  of  the  scenes  have  to  blend 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  107 

their  dialogue  in  the  side  speeches  so  as  to  form  a  contin- 
uous subject,  as  thus  : 

Matty.  The  old  woman  died  when  they  were  very 
young. 

Grainger,  {singing)  "  But  love,  the  destroyer  of  high, 
and  of  low.". 

Matty.  And  poor  Phoebe  and  George  went  to  the 
workhouse. 

Grainger.  Hey  Phoebe,  and  George  (sings)  "  That 
fhoots  at  the  peasant,  as  well  as  the  beau." 

Matty.  George  went  to  sea,  and  Phoebe  to  service ; 
after  some  years  miraculously  meet,  and  Phoebe's  eyes  — 

Grainger.  Shot  the  poor  cobbler  right  through  the 
heart,  —  derry  down,  down  derry. 

The  reader  may  judge  the  surprise  I  felt  at  the  follow- 
ing interpretation  from  the  lips  of  the  manager. 

Grainger.  "But  love,  the  disturber  of  high  and  of 
low  —  " 

Matty.  Bless  my  soul,  what  a  funny  looking  old  sol- 
dier that  is,  there. 

Grainger.  "  That  shoots  at  the  peasant,  as  well  as  the 
beau." 

Matty.  That  poor  old  man  ought  to  be  taken  care 
of,  it  really  is  a  sin  for  his  friends  to  permit  him  to  wan- 
der about  with  such  an  attack  of  lunacy  upon  him. 

Grainger.     "  Shot  the  poor  cobbler  "  &c.  &c. 

At  the  end  of  the  scene  I  congratulated  him  on  the  in- 
genuity exhibited,  whereby  the  author's  meaning  was  en- 
tirely superceded. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  I  knew  it  would  be  so,  before  I  went 
on  the  stage  to-night ;  there's  a  fatality  in  'em.  I'm  sure 
of  it." 

"  Fatality  in  what,  said  I  ?  " 

"  It's  the  breeches !  I  never  do  know  a  line  of  any 
part  I  play  in  'em." 


108  rOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

Poor  Oxberry,  he  was  a  kindly  hearted  man !  totally 
unfitted  for  the  profession  of  the  stage,  where  to-day  you 
may  be  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  the  world's  favor,  and  in 
a  brief  period  feel  the  chilling  touch  of  indifierence  and  neg- 
lect. For  all  he  had  a  cheering  word  of  encouragement,  re- 
gardless of  the  line  of  business  they  profes.sed.  He  will 
long  be  remembered  as  one  of  the  most  comic,  and  grace- 
ful actors  that  ever  trod  the  English  stage,  when  he  could 
battle  with  his  inertness,  and  learn  the  words  of  his 
author.  His  father  was  distinguished  as  a  comedian  of 
great  merit ;  and  his  "  Dramatic  Biography  "  of  the  lead- 
ing actors  and  actresses  of  his  time,  is  the  only  reliable 
and  scholarly  production  on  the  subject,  it  has  been  my 
good  fortune  to  peruse.  The  sou  possessed  much  of  his 
father's  talent  ofi",  as  well  as  on  the  stage  ;  and  has  be- 
queathed to  the  world  several  very  cleverly  constructed 
dramas.  He  died  in  the  year  1852,  in  the  forty-fourth 
year  of  his  age.  Let  the  sceptic,  who  would  look  with 
an  eye  of  doubt  upon  the  avocation  of  the  player,  drop 
a  tear  to  the  memory  of  one  who  passed  away  breathing 
the  accents  of  christian  resignation  to  God,  and  affec- 
tionate solicitude  for  those  around  him. 

'  His  sickness  had  been  severe  and  protracted;  yet  he 
clung  to  the  hallucination  of  an  ultimate  recovery,  till  an 
hour  before  his  death.  The  Melvilles,  related  to  him  by 
marriage,  were  unceasing  in  their  desire  to  soothe  the  last 
moments  of  the  dying  one,  who  closed  his  earthly  account 
in  the  following  touching  acknowledgment. 

Wednesday  night,  half-past  ten,  25th  February,  1852. 
May  my  Almighty  Maker,  to  whom  I  am  about  to  offer 
up  my  soul  for  redemption  and  his  mercy,  pardon  me  for 
all.     Through  Jesus  Christ,  Amen. 

To  all  my  friends,  I  say,  Farewell,  the  few  but  faithful. 


FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES.  109 

To  the  best  of  them,  my  clear  Charles  Melville,  that  kiad- 
hearted  man,  whom  God  bless,  his  wife,  his  family. 

Twelve  minutes  to  eleven. 

To  Charles  Melville  I  leave  all  I  have  in  the  world,  to 
do  the  best  he  can  with  for  my  childreu,  to  whom  I  leave 
the  love  of  a  father,  which  I  hope  they'll  leave  as  pure  as 
he,  in  teaching  them  to  be  good  boys,  to  study,  work,  and 
become  honest  members  of  the  world.  All  those  who 
have  injured  me  in  the  world  I  forgive,  as  I  hope  to  be 
forgiven.  For  the  articles  I  have  by  me  which  are  not  my 
own,  to  be  returned  to  the  owners.  My  wife's  gold  watch, 
Ellinor  Malcorabe  Oxberry's,  his  mother's,  I  hope  my  son 
William  to  have.  My  mourning  ring  to  Charles  Mel- 
ville. I  have  worked  hard  in  the  world  —  tried  to  do  all 
the  good  I  could  —  I  hope  the  world  won't  forget  my 
children  when  I  am  gone.  I  had  the  honor  of  receiving 
her  majesty's  thanks,  on  the  occasion  of  her  state  visit, 
eight  days  after  her  marriage,  and  in  the  very  part  which 
has  caused  my  death.  This  is  a  strange  incident.  My 
dramas,  as  a  member  of  the  Authors'  Society  —  I  have 
twenty  or  thirty  new  pieces  —  some  of  them  may  be  dis- 
posed of.  My  Chronology,  contained  in  my  private  pock- 
et-book, improved  and  corrected,  &c.,  may  be  disposed  of 
to  any  publisher  for  the  benelit  of  my  children  to  buy 
things  necessary. 

I  wish  Mr.  James  Syer  to  bury  me  —  let  this  be  printed  in 
the  morning  papers  —  bury  me  with  my  mother  in  the 
same  grave  at  St.  Peter's,  Camberwell,  and  that  Mr.  Peters 
is  requested  to  attend  the  same,  and  point  out  the  spot, 
(fee,  &c.     God  bless  all  my  relations. 

I  should  like  to  lay  by  my  poor  old  mother ;  nobody 
will  quarrel  with  me  for  that. 

Remember  me  to  Miss  Grove,  F.  Mathews,  Roxby,  Bev- 
erley, Charles  Mathews,  Madame  Vestris,  Tully,  De  Vui- 
shi. 


110  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

I  hope  Mel-ville  will  keep  my  scrap-books  for  ray  sake; 
Ellen's  for'William  till  one-and-twenty. 

All  ray  family  porti-aits,  likeness  of  my  father  and  my- 
self, for  William  to  keep,  also  those  of  my  sister,  &c. 
(Let  me  sign  while  I  can). 

William  Henry  Oxberry. 

Charles  Melville,  Sen.  \  witnesses 
Charles  M|:lville,  Jun.j 

To  Captain  Walker  write,  Wellington-road,  Regent's 
Park,  of  Sandhurst  Lodge,  lent  me  £5  7s.,  as  secui'ity  for 
which  I  gave  him  an  original  painting  of  my  father,  by 
Drummond,and  a  little  oil,  by  W.  Beverly,  bound  book,  se- 
lected autographs  (theatricals),  and  the  drawing  of  myself, 
&c.,  the  original  drawing  of  my  father  in  JSFeversour^  by 
Wageman,  and  I  hope  my  friends  will  get  up  a  benefit 
for  me.  I  hope  these  may  be  redeemed,  and  kept  in  the 
hands  of  Melville  till  my  boys  are  of  age.  I  am  in  debt. 
I  hope  funds  may  be  raised  to  liquidate  them.  They  are 
very  moderate.  My  long  illness  has  been  the  cause  of  all. 
Once  more,  God  bless  my  children,  and  Melville,  and  his 
family ;  the  same  to  my  dear  Fannie,  Mrs.  Lancaster,  sen., 
and  all  the  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lancasters,  and  their  farailies  ; 
the  Cullinfords,  for  their  great  kindness  to  rae ;  Joseph 
Wood,  my  staunch  friend ;  Richard  Flexmore,  whom  I 
esteem  as  a  brother.  All  my  playbills  Melville  will  in- 
clude in  his  afiairs,  they  are  valuable.  My  regards  to 
William  Brew,  E.  Wright,  Mr.  Bedford,  Compton,  Keeley 
and  his  wife,  Benjamin  and  Frederick  Webster,  W.  S. 
Johnson,  St.  Martin's-lane,  printer ;  Mr.  Jarvis,  Mr.  Don- 
ald Nicol,  Mr.  John  Garland,  of  Oxford-market,  a  firm 
friend  when  I  wanted  him  ;  Mr.  H.  Daws ;  Richards,  of 
Rathbone-place  ;  Mr.  Kemp,  Stone's  banking  house  (for- 
merly of).     I  hope  my  body  may  be  opened  for  the  sake 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES,  111 

of  science,  and  a  warning  to  those  who  neglect  colds. 
My  heart  and  lungs  I  know  are,  I  feel,  chronically  dis- 
eased ;  my  liver  and  my  stomach  are  disorganized.  My 
heart  I  wish  to  be  preserved  as  a  specimen  of  a  broken 
one,  and  placed  in  some  medical  museum  in  Surgeon's 
Hall,  where  I  was  articled  to  Doctor  Septimus  Wray,  to 
whom  I  leave  my  sincere  respects,  and  hope  he'll  pray 
for  the  pupil  who  deserted  him.  I  can't  think  of  any- 
thing more.  God  bless  you  all.  To  my  poor,  dear  Eliza, 
my  love  and  esteem  as  an  affectionate  brother-in-law  — 
my  gratitude,  my  last  prayer  for  her  happiness  and  wel- 
fare. 

(Witnessed)      Charles  Melville,  Jun. 
Charles  Melville,  Sen. 

There  are  five  Sundays  in  this  mouth ;  I  should  like  to 
be  buried  on  one  of  them. 

STEALING    another's    THUNDER. 

Farley,  the  great  genius  of  pantomime,  for  so  many 
years  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  had  once  introduced  a 
beautiful  effect  in  one  of  his  productions,  by  causing  Col- 
umbine to  be  lured  to  sleep  in  the  bowers  of  Paphos ; 
and  then  to  ascend  on  her  flowery  couch,  to  the  regions 
of  love. 

Some  weeks  after  the  success  of  the  piece,  Farley  was 
taking  a  Sunday  stroll,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  a 
shower  of  rain,  which  drove  him  to  seek  shelter  in  a 
Methodist  chapel,  as  the  nearest  refuge  at  hand. 

Just  as  he  entered  the  building,  the  preacher  was  nar- 
rating the  particulars  attendant  upon  his  conversion,  and 
exclaimed  in  stentorian  voice, 

"  I  felt,  my  beloved  brethren,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  rising  to 
heaven  on  a  bed  of  roses,  with  a  pair  of  silver  shoes  upon 
ray  feet." 


112  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"You  have  stolen  that  idea  from  ray  pantomime,  by- 
heaven  ! "  cried  Farley,  to  the  astonishment  of  all ;  and 
rushed  from  the  place  instanter,  boiling  with  indignation. 

COURT    THEATRICALS. 

Those  of  my  professional  bi^ethren  who  have  taken 
part  in  the  dramatic  representations  at  "Windsor  castle,  be- 
fore her  majesty  the  Queen,  and  her  court,  will,  I  am  cer- 
tain, recollect  with  much  pleasure  the  kindness  exhibited 
to  them  by  a  monarch  who  has  shed  a  lustre  upon  the 
British  throne,  and  whose  jjersonal  recognition  of  many 
of  the  members  of  the  profession  of  acting,  might  serve 
as  a  bright  example  to  those  whose  ignorance  of  the  true 
principles  of  art  jDrompt  them  to  condemn  or  remain 
indifierent  to  what  they  have  not  the  intelligence  to  com- 
prehend, and  who  can  see  nothing  to  admire  in  the  so- 
cial, or  professional  life,  of  the  player. 

The  last  of  these  events  with  which  I  was  connected, 
occurred  in  the  winter  of  1849.  The  play  was  Julius 
Caesar,  thus  cast :  Brutus,  Macready  ;  Cassius,  J.  Wallack ; 
Marc  Antony,  C.  Kean ;  Casca,  J.  Cooper ;  Octavius, 
Leigh  Murray ;  Julius  Csesar,  C.  Fisher ;  Soothsayer,  Dav- 
idge,  and  Portia,  Mrs.  Warner. 

The  reader  will  please  bear  in  mind  that  there  never 
has  been  much  regard  in  the  minds  of  C.  Kean  and  Mac- 
ready  for  each  other,  and  the  selection  by  her  majesty, 
of  the  former  as  dramatic  conductor,  and  director  of  the 
state  performances,  was  not  likely  to  allay  the  ill  feeling. 
It  was  the  first  time  Macready  had  been  requested  to 
present  himself  professionally  at  the  palace,  and  he  would 
gladly,  in  consequence  of  Kean's  presence  there,  have 
availed  himself  of  a  refusal,  if  it  could  have  been  accom- 
plished gracefully,  and  without  offence. 

The  space  allotted  for  the  stage,  erected  in  the  Rubens 
room  of  the  castle,  is  very  limited  for  the  representation 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASUES,  113 

of  Shakspeare's  plays.  It  is  therefore  necessary  to  make 
some  slight  deviation  from  the  customary  mode  of  dispos- 
ing of  the  scenes  and  characters.  The  rehearsals  take 
place  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  the  stage  being  contract- 
ed by  the  side  wings  in  such  a  way  as  to  present  to  the 
actors  the  exact  distance  they  will  have  to  occupy  at  the 
palace. 

Macready  did  not  attend  any  of  the  rehearsals,  being 
at  Birmingham  fulfilling  an  engagement.  It  was  necessa- 
ry therefore  to  explain  the  difficulties  by  letter.  A  morning 
or  two  prior  to  the  performance,  I  met  Mr.  C.  Kean  in  the 
green  room  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand,  at  which  he 
seemed  highly  diverted  I  On  complimenting  him  on  his 
unusual  flow  of  spirits,  he  said,  "  I  never  heard  of  any- 
thing more  amusing  in  all  my  life." 

"As  what?"  said  I. 

"  I  always  knew  Macready  was  extremely  eccentric, 
but  this  beats  all  I  ever  knew.  Would  you  believe  it !  I 
thought  it  advisable  to  explain  to  him  the  difficulties  we 
had  to  contend  with  from  lack  of  space,  and  requested  ; 
in  consideration,  that  he  would  be  good  enough  to  dis- 
pense with  the  senate  sitting,  because  Ave  had  no  means 
of  removing  their  seats  without  dropping  the  curtain  ; 
and  here's  his  answer.     What  do  you  think  it  is?  " 

"  Don't  know  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I'm  sure  you'd  never  guess  it !  what  an  idea !  eood. 
Sir,  be  refers  me  to  his  solicitor,  and  declines  to  hold  any 
communication  on  any  subject  except  through  him." 

In  December  1847,1  made  my  re-appearance  in  London 
at  the  Olympic  (destroyed  by  fire  April  4th,  1849)  in  the 
character  of  Sir  Anthony  Absolute  in  the  "  Kivals,"  and  in 
the  following  month,  Mr.  G.  V.  Brooke,*  and  Mr.Lysander 

*  Lost  in  Steamer  "  London  "  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  January  11, 
1866.  aged  48. 


114  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Thompson  presented  their  claims  for  Metropolitan  approv- 
al at  the  same  theatre,  the  former  in  Othello,  and  the  lat- 
ter in  Tyke.  Without  vanity,  I  may  say  that  the  debuts 
were  quite  successful,  the  two  latter  particularly,  but  the 
concern,  by  some  outside  pressure,  became  involved,  and 
closed  prematurely  after  a  season  of  six  months. 

At  the  end  of  the  year  1849, 1  joined  Mr.  James  Ander- 
son, at  Drury  Lane.  A  short  season  ended  disastrously, 
and  I  accepted  an  offer  from  Mr.  J.  Hall  Wilton  the  celebra- 
ted business  agent,  to  join  Mr.  E.  A.  Marshall  at  the  Broad- 
way Theatre,  New  York,  for  two  years.  My  contract  bind- 
ing me  to  play  the  principal  old  men  ;  parts  in  extravaganza 
and  burlesque,  and  characters  in  the  Shaksperian  drama 
where  there  were  two  of  about  equal  importance,  such  as 
Launce,and  Speed  in  the  "  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,"  etc. 
The  inaptitude,  or  lack  of  experience,  of  the  gentleman 
who  was  retained  for  the  comedy,  forced  me  into  some 
positions  for  which  act  of  rashness  I  am  duly  penitent. 

The  engagements  made  in  London  by  Mr,  Wilton  were 
Mr.  F.  B.  Conway,  Mrs.  F.  B.  Conway  (died  in  New 
York  in  1851),  Miss  Anderson,  Miss  Richardson,  (died 
in  Australia  in  1861,)  the  Misses  Gougenheim,  and  Mr. 
Scharf.  In  company  with  these  I  set  sail  in  the  steamer 
Canada,  from  Liverpool,  on  the  21st  of  July,  1850. 

A  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  has  been  so  ably  and 
graphically  described  by  so  many  writers,  that  it  is  some- 
what hazardous  to  venture  upon  a  repetition.  As  every 
one  however  prefers  to  tell  his  own  story  in  his  own  way, 
I  propose,  nothing  daunted,  to  recount  my  impressions 
of  the  mighty  deep,  and  some  of  my  fellow  sufferers  who 
confided  themselves  to  its  guardianshijD. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  To  the  wild  ocean." 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona.     Act  2.  Scene  7. 

"  Do  you  ever  suffei'  from  sea  sickness  ? "  was  the 
question  propounded  by  a  dashing  looking  youth,  in  a 
faultless  travelling  costume,  to  a  young  lady  of  delicate 
complexion,  as  we  rounded  the  light  house  at  the  entrance 
of  the  Mersey. 

"  Well  really,  I  don't  know.  I  havn't  been  on  salt  wa- 
ter since  jDa  took  us  all  to  Yarmouth  for  the  season,  three 
summers  ago.  Pa  prefers  Yarmouth,  because  he  says 
the  air  is  better  than  at  Brighton  or  Hastings  ;  and  the 
lodging-house  keepers  are  not  half  so  extortionate  ;  but 
for  my  part,  I  consider  Yarmouth  a  shocking  place,  don't 
you  ?  No  style  about  it,  no  society  that  one  cares  to  mix 
with,  nothing  but  farmers  and  tradesmen  in  middling  cir- 
cumstances, and  who  can't  afford  to  go  to  the  two  former, 
show  off  their  dowdy  wives  and  daughters  there.  No 
military  either ;  it's  really  fortunate  almost  for  me  that  I 
was  in  too  delicate  a  state  of  health  to  be  much  about ; 
but  my  sister  Helen,  she's  so  absurd,  she  condescended  to 
play  two  or  three  games  at  backgammon  with  some  peo- 
ple who  lived  in  the  house,  I  assure  you  very  much  to 
my  disgust !  Then  she's  so  free  in  her  manners." 

"  Yaas,  true,"  responded  the  youth,  "Yarmouth  not 
much  of  a  place  —  no  yacht  club  there,  with  anybody 
one  cares  to  know  in  it ;  —  very  good  herrings,  —  those 


116  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

bloaters,  good  things  for  breakfast !  that's  all  I  could  ever 
see  in  the  place.  My  fellow  knows  a  man  lives  down 
there,  who  breeds  dogs.  When  we  return,  I'll  send  you 
a  nice  terrier,  if  you'd  like  to  have  one, — good  things 
for  rats,  you  know." 

Lady  gives  him  a  ghastly  smile  of  thanks  for  his  offer, 
the  sky  begins  to  indicate  the  going  down  of  the  sun, 
she  turns  her  camp  stool  to  windwarcl,  attempts  a  glow- 
ing panegyric  on  the  brilliancy  of  the  scene,  and  the  in- 
vigorating influence  of  the  sea  air ;  the  description  is 
suddenly  abbreviated  by  a  violent  lurch,  she  rises  to  go, 
staggers  into  the  arms  of  the  captain,  who  always  is  on 
hand  when  a  desirable  looking  woman  needs  his  assist- 
ance, is  piloted  by  him  to  the  companion  way,  where 
she  gradually  descends  to  her  berth  by  the  aid  of  the 
brass  hand  rail,  and  is  seen  no  more  till  Ave  pass  the  banks 
of  Newfoundland,  and  are  in  smooth  water. 

The  youth  is  getting  very  unsteady  about  the  legs,  but 
makes  strong  effoi't  to  preserve  his  equilibrium,  —  his 
yatching  experience  don't  seem  to  have  qualified  him  for 
sea  travelling,  —  and  after  vainly  attempting  to  light  a  ci- 
gar, takes  advantage  of  a  slight  cessation  of  hostilities,  and 
beats  a  retreat. 

The  sailors,  denuded  of  their  clean  white  pants  and 
shirts,  now  appear  mufiled  in  tarpauling  ;  the  pilot  takes 
leave  of  the  captain,  steps  into  his  boat  and  is  soon  miles 
away.  On  we  go  with  every  prospect  of  a  dirty  night ; 
ladies  who  have  heroically  resisted  the  giddiness  conse- 
quent on  the  motion  of  the  vessel,  and  are  plying  the 
needle  with  astonishing  perseverance  under  such  adverse 
circumstances,  now  begin  to  change  the  current  of  their 
thoughts  and  desires,  by  artfully  recollecting  they  have 
left  their  scissors  below,  and  are  assisted  in  their  voyage 
of  discovery  by  an  old  traveller  or  two,  who  lead  them 
towards  the  gangway,  from  which  they  do  not  make  their 
reappearance  for  several  days. 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  117 

Two  or  tliree  gentlem-cn,  who  affect  to  be  perfect  mas- 
ters of  tlie  use  of  the  compass,  glance  knowingly  at  that 
mystic  instrument,  and  closing  their  left  eyes,  take  an 
observation  of  the  horizon  with  a  degree  of  self-satisfac- 
tion which  affords  a  source  of  amusement  to  the  men  in 
charge  of  the  rudder.  The  ship  gives  another  heavy 
lurch,  the  knowing  ones  say  the  barometer  indicates  an 
approaching  storm,  and  make  for  the  gentlemen's  smok- 
ing room,  amidships.  We  are  delighted  to  have  an  excuse 
to  shift  our  position,  and  attempt  to  follow.  A  strong 
gust  of  wind  takes  a  hat  belonging  to  one  of  the  party 
into  its  embrace,  and  it  skims  the  water  as  far  as  the  eye 
can  reach,  on  its  Avay  back  to  Liverpool,  amidst  a  shout 
of  derision  !  The  boatswain's  whistle  is  immediately  re- 
sponded to  by  the  sailors  who,  with  a  pi'ecision  and  speed 
quite  wonderful  to  the  eye  of  the  landsman,  make  every- 
thing snug  and  secure  for  any  outburst  of  the  elements. 

The  rain  begins  to  fall  in  heavy  drops  as  I  am,  by  the 
aid  of  the  bulwarks,  making  my  way  for  shelter ;  but  be- 
fore I  can  accomplish  my  intention,  I  receive  an  instal- 
ment of  the  foaming  surf  full  in  my  iace.  I  reeled  a  yard 
or  two  clinging  to  a  coil  of  rope,  and  no  sooner  recover 
from  the  shock,  than  I  get  it  plentifully  from  every  quar- 
ter, and  with  terrible  misgivings  of  a  dreaded  infirmity 
consequent  upon  travelling  by  sea,  stagger  towards  the 
saloon,  which  I  find  occupied  by  many  of  the  most  expert 
at  that  kind  of  locomotion,  if  you  are  to  credit  the  lau- 
dation so  freely  exj^ressed  by  themselves  before  the  vessel 
left  her  dock. 

I  make  every  effort  of  which  I  am  capable,  to  ignore 
the  bare  supposition  that  I  mean  to  be  sea  sick.  An  old 
friend  who  had  been  everywhere,  and  done  everything, 
humanely  furnished  me  with  some  most  valuable  hints  in 
relation  to  resisting  the  dreaded  malady,  and  I  am  re- 
solved to  carry  them  to  execution. 


118  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

The  sea  begins  to  lash  itself  into  an  extra  attack  of 
ferocity,  while  I  am  in  the  act  of  unlocking  a  valise  to 
search  for  the  infallible  remedy.  I  lose  my  presence  of 
mind,  become  si^eedily  indifferent  to  the  taste  of  all  sub- 
lunary things,  and  would  willingly  submit  to  be  made  a 
sacrifice  to  the  insatiable  fury  of  the  aquatic  monstei-, 
without  a  pang  of  fear,  or  murmur  of  regret. 

The  Niagara,  on  its  way  from  New  York,  passes  us  with- 
in hailing  distance.  She  cari-ies  her  flag  at  half  mast. 
The  captains  hold  an  unintelligible  interview  through 
speaking  ti'umpets,  and  we  learn,  that  is  to  say,  they  do, 
for  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to  be  intrusive  of  other  men's 
matters,  that  the  gallant  warrior,  General  Taylor,  has  gone 
to  his  long  resting  place  two  or  three  days  before  the 
vessel  sailed. 

I  took  two  days  probationary  service,  ere  I  was  able  to 
devote  a  thought  on  the  condition  of  my  neighbors;  when 
I  did  make  the  survey,  I  found  them  composed  of  all 
shades  of  society,  from  the  missionary  on  his  way  to  Cen- 
tral America,  to  the  bank  clerk  and  confidential  business 
agent  of  a  wealthy  firm,  who  usually  did  a  little  sub  rosa  in 
diamonds  and  jirecious  stones,  on  his  own  account.  The 
spirits  of  one  lady  and  gentleman  appeared  to  be  consid- 
erably relieved,  as  soon  as  we  were  fairly  out  to  sea,  and 
beyond  the  possibility  of  pursuit ;  and  it  was  ill-naturedly 
hinted  that  the  male  traveller  had  appropriated  a  com- 
panion who  was  by  legal  covenant  the  property  of  some 
one  else.  There  were  two  Milesian  gentleman;  both, 
as  a  well-established  fiction,  educated  at  Trinity  college, 
Dublin  !  and  whose  society  was  extremely  agreeable.  One 
old  gentleman  of  the  Hebrew  persuasion,  with  a  very 
young  wife,  but  recently  elevated  to  that  honor,  and  with 
all  her  maidenly  latitude  still  a  part  of  her  creed.  Sev- 
eral politicians  from  various  parts  of  the  States  on  their 
way  home,  after  visiting  the  points  of  interest  in  the  old 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  119 

world  ;  and  one  officer  attached  to  her  Britannic  Majesty's 
army  in  Canada,  who,  in  order  to  battle  against  the  ennui 
of  the  voyage,  kept  himself  in  a  perpetual  state  of  intox- 
ication. 

The  first  few  days  at  sea  are  never  distinguished  for 
extreme  sociability,  particularly  in  squally  weather,  and 
our  party  was  no  exception  to  established  rule.  A  Vir- 
ginian gentleman  was  the  earliest  indication  of  convivial 
gratification  that  dawned  upon  us,  and  afforded  much 
amusement  by  proffering  his  co-operation  in  an  evening 
concert,  in  which  he  took  a  prominent,  and  highly  accept- 
able part.  Politics  was  however  his  speciality ;  and  the 
zest  with  which  he  descanted  upon  his  favorite  therae 
was,  to  me,  both  novel  and  instructive. 

The  moon  was  shining  with  a  richness  nowhere  be- 
queathed us  save  uj)on  the  broad  Atlantic  ;  and  the  up- 
per deck  was  crowded  with  listeners  to  an  animated 
discussion  of  the  merits  of  some  of  the  greatest,  and 
best  of  America's  statesmen.  When  some  venturous 
individual  expressed  his  doubts  of  the  claim  to  the  proud 
position  occupied  by  Henry  Clay,  the  Virginian  was  on 
his  legs  quicker  than  thought.  He  was  a  very  tall,  spare 
man,  and  as  he  leaned  upon  the  stool  he  had  till  now 
been  seated  on,  his  shadow  upon  the  calm  surface  of  the 
waters  gave  him  an  almost  supernatural  aspect.  All 
eyes  were  turned  towards  him  ;  even  the  missionary  for- 
got for  a  moment  his  beneficent  object  of  directing  the 
footsteps  of  the  heathen  towards  his  own  special  path- 
way to  eternity  ;  and  faltered  in  his  evening's  customary 
ramble,  to  become  a  witness  of  the  scene. 

"  Gentlemen,"  began  the  Virginian  "  there  are  moments 
in  our  chequered  existence  which  leave  an  indelible  im- 
pression ;  either  by  the  consequence  and  magnitude  of 
the  subject  itself,  or  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  the 
locality  of  discussion.     In   the  pi-esent   instance,  it  is  my 


120  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHE«. 

good  fortune  to  be  able  to  boast  of  the  punty  of  the  one, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  other.  Gentlemen,  here  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  broad  Atlantic,  with  the  blessed  moon  shin- 
ing in  its  matchless  eflulgence  above  our  heads,  do  I  re- 
gard with  commiseration  and  regret,  the  man  who  shall 
for  a  moment  indulge  in  the  slightest  belief  in  the  charg- 
es made  by  the  pettiness  of  party  spleen,  against  the  in- 
tegrity of  that  greatest  of  all  statesmen.  (Hear  !  hear  !  and 
a  round  of  applause  from  the  j^assengers.)  I  am  not  one 
of  those,  gentleman,  who  would  look  at  every  trivial  ac- 
tion of  a  great  man's  life,  and  point  to  promises  artfully 
decoyed  from  him  in  the  heat  of  debate,  for  the  purpose 
of  falsifying  his  political  position.  I  cast  ray  thoughts 
back  to  the  history  of  past  ages ;  and  I  take  a  compre- 
hensive survey  of  those  of  our  own  time  who  have  and 
are,  distinguished  by  depth  of  profound  veneration,  and 
respect  for  the  honesty  of  their  efforts  on  behalf  of  the 
land  of  their  birth  ;  and  I  have  yet  to  be  acquainted  with 
one  man  more  entitled  to  the  unqualified  regard  of  his 
own  country,  and  the  admiration  of  all  civilized  human- 
ity, than  Henry  Clay.  (Hear  !  hear !)  In  time  to  come, 
when  few,  if  any,  now  within  the  sound  of  my  feeble 
voice  shall  exist,  America  shall  tutor  her  rising  gene- 
ration to  emulate  the  example  of  him  who,  despite  the 
factious  hordes  of  slanderers  that  have  ever,  from  the 
commencement  of  his  career  heaped  falsehood  and  cal- 
umny upon  his  policy,  stands  collossal  like,  the  interpreta- 
tion of  freedom,  rectitude,  and  the  most  scrupulous  hon- 
esty.    (Hear !  hear !) 

"  It  would  ill  become  me,  hei'e  upon  the  calm  bosom  of 
the  great  waters,  just  returning  as  I  am  from  the  kindliest 
hospitality  of  the  mother  country,  where  the  intelligent 
traveller  and  searcher  after  the  antique  and  the  beautiful 
readily  finds  the  grasp  of  welcome  extended  to  greet  him, 
and  the  overflowing  wine  cup  a  cheerful  offering  at  his 


FOOTLIGIIT   FLASHES.  121 

presence  !  It  would  ill  become  rae,  I  say,  to  offer  invidi- 
ously a  comparison  between  the  great  men  of  other  na- 
tions ;  but,  gentlemen,  take  my  word  for  it,  you  may  talk 
of  your  Peels,  your  Kussells,  your  Lamartines,  and  a  score 
of  others,  but  Henry  Clay's  a  bigger  man  than  the  whole 
crowd  !  He's  eleven  feet  high,  with  a  head  as  big  as  a 
hogshead  of  tobacco ! " 

A  shout  of  applause  followed  this  panegyric,  not  unmix- 
ed with  some  surprise  at  the  extraordinary  simile  em- 
ployed in  its  construction.  I  learned,  however,  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  that  the  speaker  was  from  Virgin- 
ia, thence  the  comparison  with  greatness  and  the  hogs- 
head of  the  staple  article  of  that  section  of  the  country. 
It  is  also  needless  to  state  that  no  one  amongst  his  many 
friends,  entertained  a  less  regard  for  the  great  statesman 
than  he  did ;  and  that  several  of  his  party  had  purposely 
drawn  him  into  an  exposition  of  his  oratorical  powers  for 
the  love  of  hearing  him  talk. 

He  opened  ballot  boxes  for  the  election  of  the  next 
president  the  following  day,  availing  himself  of  the  priv- 
ilege of  descanting  upon  his  favorite  in  the  most  lauda- 
tory strain. 

The  Hebrew  and  his  young  wife  kept  up  a  perpetual 
family  warfare ;  the  slightest  mark  of  attention  confer- 
red upon  the  lady  by  a  passenger  of  the  opposite  gender, 
bringing  out  the  strong  points  of  the  husband's  character 
with  a  boldness  of  color  not  at  all  suggestive  of  a  happy 
future  for  one  who  had,  perhaps,  to  feed  her  personal  van- 
ity, or  inflict  a  pang  upon  a  worthy  but  offending  lover, 
placed  herself  upon  the  altar  of  misery,  and  is  gradual- 
ly becoming  conscious  of  the  terrors  of  the  sacrifice. 

We  reach  Halifax,  land  for  three  hours,  and  are  impor- 
tuned by  the  natives  to  purchase  dogs  of  the  most  fault- 
less symmetry  and  the  purest  blood.  One  of  the  gentle- 
men from  Ireland,  whose  paternal  progenitor  has  an  estate 
6 


122  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

of  ever  so  many  thousand  acres  near  Clonmel,  and  has 
passed  much  of  his  youth  in  the  luxury  of  the  field,  is 
well  skilled  in  everything  connected  with  the  dog,  and 
its  history,  drives  a  hard  bargain  with  a  rather  dilapidat- 
ed individual  who  assures  you  he  is  a  native  of  the  place  ; 
but  if  his  account  of  himself  be  reliable,  you  are  firmly 
convinced  that  the  town  and  neighborhood  must  have 
formerly  been  the  property  of  an  Hibernian  monarch  who, 
when  he  had  to  flee  before  the  enemy  after  being  robbed 
of  his  country  and  his  home,  bequeathed,  as  a  pleasing  and 
grateful  souvenir,  the  iMtois  already  enjoyed  by  his  suc- 
cessors in  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world. 

We  go  on  board,  the  bell  rings  violently,  the  passengers 
arrive  in  crowds,  some  on  foot,  others  in  coaches,  after  a 
drive  about  the  town  and  neighborhood.  The  paddle 
wheels  are  "soon  in  motion,  and  we  slowly  leave  the  wharf. 
Our  friend  is  proud  of  his  dog,  and  is  exhibiting  him  to 
his  fellow-passengers ;  he  is  of  the  best  breed,  and  very  large 
in  size;  we  are  on  the  middle  deck  near  the  cookhoiise, 
and  the  vessel  not  far  from  the  shore.  Presently  a  shrill 
whistle  is  heard,  the  dog  pricks  up  his  ears,  with  a  desper- 
ate bound  breaks  from  the  grasp  of  his  new  owner,  springs 
upon  the  guards,  leaps  into  the  water,  and  makes  for  the 
shore  as  if  he  was  swimming  for  his  life.  The  blank  aston- 
ishment depicted  upon  the  countenance  of  the  supposed 
owner,  as  he  saw  his  property  land  safely  on  the  bank,  is 
speedily  followed  by  a  loud  burst  of  laughter  from  the 
pastry  cook,  who  is  preparing  pies  for  the  day's  dinner, 

"  What,  is  Mikey  at  it  again  ?  "  asks  a  sailor  of  the  above 
as  he  passes  towards  the  saloon. 

"  Aye,  aye,  he's  made  a  pretty  good  raise,  lately  ;  two 
trips  since  he  did  a  Frenchman  out  o^  tie  o  pun  ten!  Valu- 
able animal  that  'ere  " 

Our  Irish  friend,  hearing  the  above,  ventures  to  make 
inquiry  respecting  the  position  occupied  in  society  by  the 


FOOTEIGirr   FLASHES.  123 

cunning  trader  ;  when  all,  and  everyone  of  the  ship's  crew 
ao:ree  that  the  neighborhood  does  not  contain  a  more  dis- 
honest  and  shameless  vagabond  than  Mickey  Donevan ; 
tliat  the  same  dog  has  been  his  only  stock  in  trade  for 
two  years  ;  that  he  was  once  a  coal  passer  in  the  Cunard 
service,  but  dispensed  with  by  the  company  for  idleness 
and  dissipation. 

We  make  a  rapid  run  to  New  York,  reaching  the 
beautiful  bay  about  one  o'clock  on  the  2d  of  August, 
with  the  thermometer  higher  than  we  had  ever  before 
seen  it.  We  reach  the  dock  at  Jersey  city  where,  after 
the  sailors  have  gone  through  the  ceremony  of  landing 
the  mails,  being  costumed  in  the  most  agreeable  manner 
for  the  purpose,  we  shake  hands  with  the  congenial  ones 
we  have  fraternized  with  during  our  brief  acquaintanc- 
ship,  and  for  the  first  time  tread  American  soil. 

My  evening  I  passed  at  Niblo's,  where  I  met  Hamblin, 
Mitchel,  Lynne,  Chippendale  and  John  Brougham.  The 
three  former  have  "  passed  away  "  some  years  since. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

'•  Being  a  stranger  in  this  city  here." 

Taming  of  a  Shrew.     Act  2.     Scene  1. 

The  Broadway  season  commenced  on  the  19th  August, 
1850,  with  the  comedy  of  the  "  School  for  Scandal,"  thus 
cast:  Sir  P.  Teazle,  W.  Davidge;  Sir  Oliver  Surface,  G. 
Barrett ;  Charles,  F.  B.  Conway  ;  Joseph,  W.  S.  Freder- 
icks ;  Moses,  Scharf ;  Lady  Teazle,  Miss  Anderson ;  Maria, 
Miss  J.  Gongenheim. 

The  inducement  held  out  to  me  to  visit  America  by 
the  agent  of  Mr.  E.  A.  Marshall,  the  then  lessee  of  the 
Broadway,  were  of  such  a  nature  as  led  me  to  un- 
derstand that  the  star  system  was  entirely  ignored  under 
their  supervision,  and  that  every  artiste  stood  in  a  fair 
and  equitable  position  before  the  public,  who  could  judge 
of  their  merits  without  the  aid  of  capitals  to  guide  them 
in  the  formation  of  their  judgment. 

It  is  needless  to  state,  that  I  soon  discovered  that  the 
establishment  was  the  only  one  in  the  country  where  the 
ruinous  star  system  was  really  carried  out  to  the  fullest 
extent.  Seldom,  indeed,  was  anything  produced  without 
the  addition  of  some  auxiliary  aid ;  but  when  the  man- 
agement, (at  a  time  when  stars  were  not  to  be  obtained) 
expended  some  time,  and  very  little  money,  upon  the 
"  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  and  "  Faustus,"  the  result 
was  more  satisfactory  than  under  a  system  they  espoused 
at  the  very  advent  of  their  managerial  career. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  125 

Mr.  Beverly,  of  the  Scarboro'  Theatre,  once  related  to 
me  an  incident  in  connection  with  the  star  system,  which 
is  worth  recording  in  this  place.  Mr.  B.  was  for  many 
years  manager  of  the  Scarboro'  circuit,  and  died  some 
years  since  in  very  good  circumstances,  without  ever  per- 
mitting a  star  to  appear  upon  his  boards. 

"  During  one  of  my  summer  seasons  at  Scarboro',"  said 
he,  "  my  old,  and  dear  friend  Edmund  Kean,  theu  in  the 
height  of  his  popularity,  came  down  for  a  week  or  two, 
to  recruit  his  health  after  several  months  continuous  act- 
ing.  I  had  a  very  pleasant  residence,  Avhere  Kean  was 
iwy  guest.  After  a  week  or  two  he  gained  strength  so 
rapidly  that  idleness  became  irksome  to  him,  and  with 
the  best  intention  in  the  world,  he  proposed  that  he  should 
play  three  nights  the  following  week,  beginning  on  Mon- 
day, with  Richard.  I  replied,  with  many  thanks  for  his 
offer,  that  it  had  always  been  my  settled  system  of  policy 
to  disclaim  the  aid  of  extraneous  attraction,  because  I  had, 
from  long  experience,  been  convinced  that  no  manager 
ever  came  out  a  winner  in  the  end  ;  and  it  was  only 
those  who  lacked  the  necessary  ability  to  produce  their 
plays  in  a  proper  mannei',  who  adopted  such  means  of 
covering  their  deficiency." 

All  writers,  from  the  time  of  Garrick,  have  agreed,  that 
bankruptcy  is  the  rule,  and  success  the  exception,  under 
such  a  course  of  management;  and  if  it  were  necessary,  I 
could  name  an  instance  at  the  time  I  write,  of  a  popular 
manager  who  has  paid  thousands,  for  many  years,  to 
"  stars  "  whose  position  now  is  most  deploi'able  and  dis- 
tressing. 

Mr.  Charles  Kean  has  lately  shown  that  the  manner  in 
which  he  has  produced  his  plays  at  the  Princesses'  Thea- 
tre, London,  has  done  more  to  sustain  the  respectability 
of  the  drama,  than  all  his  efforts  for  years,  as  a  "  star." 


126  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

The  public,  or  some  portion  of  it,  are  taught  to  con- 
sider that  many  years'  experience  as  a  stock  actor  totally 
unqualifies  you  for  the  position  of  a  "  star."  It  is  re- 
versing the  order  of  things,  it  is  true  ;  yet  I  have  heard 
enough  to  satisfy  me  on  the  point,  while  the  novice,  es- 
pecially of  the  gentler  sex,  if  pretty^  (this  is  indispensa- 
ble) will  be  readily  accepted  as  a  feature,  and  lauded  for 
the  possession  of  qualities  it  would  puzzle  the  genuine 
critic  to  discover. 

Mr.  Wallack's  style  of  conducting  his  theatre,  and  the 
success  of  the  system,  should  convince  the  sceptical  of 
the  soundness  of  his  policy. 

In  fine,  the  drama  needs  what  I  much  fear  it  will 
never  have,  viz  :  A.  school  in  which  pupils  can  graduate 
in  the  several  excellences  to  Jit  them  for  the  duties  of  the 
profession. 

Years  ago  the  drama  was  the  only  source  of  instruc- 
tion, apart  from  expensive  colleges  and  seminaries,  devoted 
to  educational  purposes,  to  be  found  not  only  in  towns, 
but  for  those  in  the  receipt  of  a  limited  income,  in  the 
large  cities,  also.  Now,  the  increase  of  literary  and 
scientific  associations,  with  their  attendant  means  of  ac- 
cess for  all  classes  of  the  community,  render  the  theatre, 
as  an  educational  institution,  of  secondary  importance  to 
its  position  as  a  means  of  amusement  and  recreation. 

I  remained  five  seasons  at  the  Broadway  theatre,  with 
some  pecuniary  advantage,  and  it  is  hoped  with  satisfac- 
tion to  the  play-going  public.  In  1854,  "Midsummer 
Night's  Dre^ta  "  as  before  alluded  to,  was  produced  with 
great  success.  This  play  brought  me  into  a  contest  with 
the  critics  —  a  dangerous  proceeding  for  one  who  has  so 
little  at  his  command  wherewith  to  stand  the  perpetual 
fire  of  the  unlimited  supply  of  type  and  space,  but  from 
which  I  believe  I  did  not  come  out  second  best. 


FOOTLIGHT   FJ^ASHES.  127 


NEGRO    MIKSTEELST. 


The  groat,  and  increasing  popularity  of  negro  minstrel- 
sy since  its  inauguration  as  a  species  of  amusement,  is  a 
matter  of  serious  concern  to  the  purveyors  of  dramatic 
exhibitions  in  every  tovvn  or  city  upon  the  vast  conti- 
nent of  America.  How  frequently  the  most  eminent  in 
tragedy  or  comedy,  have  toiled  through  the  choicest  ef- 
forts, to  scanty  listeners  ;  while  upon  the  same  evenings, 
fantazias  upon  the  bones,  or  banjo,  has  called  forth  the 
plaudits  of  admiring  thousands. 

In  1855,  I  attempted  to  play  a  brief  engagement  at  De- 
troit, Mich.,  and  am  indebted  to  the  wonderful  skill  and 
endurance  of  a  gentleman  named  Dick  Sliter  (since  dead) 
who  exhibited  marvellous  prowess  as  a  jig  dancer,  for 
piloting  me  through  the  term  alloted,  whereby  I  was  en- 
abled to  bid  adieu  to  the  city,  without  pecuniary  loss. 

The  late  E.  P.  Christy  commenced  operations  in  New 
York  in  1842.  At  this  time  the  Italian,  or  indeed,  any 
kind  of  opera,  visited  us  only  in  a  spasmodic  form,  like 
fever  and  ague.  At  the  present  date  (1866)  it  is  cheer- 
ing to  be  informed  that  Italian  opera  is  in  the  most  lux- 
uriant condition,  enriching  managers  and  artists  in  such 
an  expeditious  manner, —  a  result  very  gratifying  to  all 
lovers  of  art  of  whatever  clime,  and  to  America  espec- 
ially, who  thereby  enjoys  the  proud  distinction  of  foster- 
ino-  a  high  and  ennobling  musical  taste  with  a  profitable 
margin,  denied  to  older  and  aristocratic  nations,  whose 
government  in  many  cases  grant  a  yearly  sum  of  money, 
for  the  liquidation  of  losses  which  are  always  anticipa- 
ted. 

The  public  took  some  time  to  tutor  themselves  into 
negro  minstrelsy,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  perusal  of  the 
balance  sheet  of  the  late  E.  P.  Christy,  kindly  flivored  me 


128 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 


for  reference  or  copy,  a  year  or  two  prior  to  his  melan- 
choly death. 


Year.   No.  of  Concerts.  Heceipts. 


Expenses. 


Surplus. 


1842,6  mo.  69 


L,847,52        $1,652,60        $294,92 


1843, 
1844, 
1845, 
1846, 
1847, 


109 
133 
118 
198 
252 


2,653,75 

3,658,69 

4,560,25 

13,667,25 

28,752,79 


1,875,10 
2,749,64 
8,348,15 
8,656,39 
12,585,38 


778,66 

909,00 

1,212,13 

5,010,86 

16,167,41 


5  J  years.  879       $55,140,25      $30,767,26  $24,372,98 


26,70 
24,33 
27,50 
38,64 
69,02 
114,09 


Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  in  1843,  the  entire  profits 
only  amounted  to  a  trifle  over  $700,  and  in  1847  it  ex- 
ceeded 116,000. 


1848, 

308 

$39,432,87 

$16,653,00  $22,779,37 

128,02 

1849, 

811 

34,295,00 

15,765,25 

18,529,75 

110,27 

1850, 

305 

46,778,50 

20,313,00 

26,465,50 

153,37 

1851, 

340 

43,952,25 

28,881,00 

20,121,25 

129,27 

1852, 

317 

60,019,25 

26,022,25 

23,997,00 

157,78 

1853, 

312 

47,971,75 

23,364,00 

24,607,75 

153,78 

1854, 

202 

48,037,75 

39,338,98 

8,698,77 

213,06 

Total,   2,420    $372,140,25    $191,053,25  $181,087,00  191,053,25 

Thus  from  June  1842  to  July  15,  1854,  Mr.  Christy 
gave  2,420  concerts.  The  total  receipts  to  which  were 
$372,140  25.  The  expenses  amounted  to  $191,053  25;  leav- 
ing a  balance  of  $181,087,  or  over  $15,000  per  annum. 

I  am  not  cognizant  of  the  amount  of  yearly  profit  of 
Messrs.  Bryant,  Birch,  Backus  &c.,  but  believe  it  to  be  very 
much  larger  than  their  predecessor ;  but  of  this  I  am  from 
personal  experience  certain,  that  great  as  it  may  be,  it  is  not 
capacious  enough  to  sufticiently  reward  them  for  the  lib- 
eral spirit  they  are  ever  ready  to  manifest  by  words  and 
deeds  for  all,  and  every  claim  made  upon  them  by  their 
less  fortunate  brothers  in  the  profession  of  amusement,  no 
matter  what  style  of  character  they  profess  to  represent. 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  129 

CANDIDATES    FOE    DRAMATIC    FAME. 

The  unskilled  in  the  secrets  of  the  dramatic  "prison 
house  "  are  scarcely  aware  of  the  persistency  of  the  theat- 
rically inclined,  when  the  notion  seizes  them  that  destiny 
has  marked  him,  or  her,  for  one  of  its  matchless  expo- 
nents. They  are  not  to  be  diverted  from  their  purpose  by 
any  words,  or  acts  of  discouragement  ingenuity  may  devise. 
Paint,  however  vividly,  your  own  trials  and  distresses, 
while  a  member  of  a  travelling  company,  flxr  removed  from 
friends  or  relatives,  with  an  inadequate  exchequer  for  the 
liquidation  of  your  necessary  wants,- they  are  only  the 
more  eager  to  brave  the  ordeal  in  proportion  to  the  diffi- 
culties to  be  surmounted. 

Private  theatricals  have  much  to  do  in  fanning  this 
Thespian  flame,  aided  as  it  invariably  is  by  the  press,  who 
generally  laud  the  efforts  of  the  novice  in  the  most  friend- 
ly spirit,  hinting  darkly  that  established  tragic,  or  comic 
actors,  must  look  well  to  their  laurels  if  the  gentleman 
who  was  the  hero  of  the  night's  performance,  should  perse- 
vere in  his  proposed  intention,  and  throw  aside  the  ruler 
of  commerce  for  the  sword  of  Richard,  or  the  tobacco 
pipe  of  Toodles.  The  following  is  a  verbatim  copy  of 
one  of  the  many  letters  continually  received  by  managers. 

Randolph,  Oct.,  26,  1857. 
Dear  Sir.  Having  a  vary  strong  desire  to  adopt  the 
profession  of  an  actor,  I  now  address  you  for  the  purpose 
of  secureing  a  situation  in  the  Theatre,  which  you  have 
the  honor  of  raanageing.  I  will  say  that  I  have  attend- 
ed literary  societies  considerable,  and  have  practiced 
declameing  some.  Consequently  I  do  not  think  that  I 
shall  be  much  troubled  with  stage  fright.  While  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Randolph  Academy  Lyceum,!  acted  the  part 
of  Hob  in  the  play  of  Hob  and  Nob,  a  part  requireing 
C* 


130  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

the  manifestation  of  good  deal  of  energy  and  activity, 
but  still  a  very  easy  part  to  act,  at  least  it  was  for  me. 
The  audeance,  (as  far  as  I  know  anything  about  it)  were 
universaly  well  pleased  with  my  acting  ;  I  have  lately 
been  invited,  by  the  big  bugs  of  the  place,  to  act  the  part 
of  Sir  Marmaduke  Medows,  in  the  play  entitled  Bara- 
boozleing,  and  expect  to  do  so  in  a  few  days.  My  friends 
think  that  indipendance  and  determination,  is  a  very 
strong  feature  of  my  character.  I  do  not  know  that 
you  believe  in  Phrenology,  but  the  organs  which  give 
the  disposition  and  the  ability  to  understand  human  na- 
ture, are  marked  6  on  a  scale  of  from  one  to  seven  (seven 
meaning  very  larg)  on  a  chart  which  I  have  lately  received 
from  Fowler  and  Wells.  Let  that  be  as  it  ma,  I  have 
made  human  nature  my  studdy  for  the  last  5  years.  In 
the  written  description  of  character  and  talants  which 
L.  N.  Fowler  has  made  out  for  me,  he  says  that  I 
am  susceptable  of  and  can  endure  a  very  high  degree  of 
mental  exsitement.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  I  am  very 
exciteable  and  when  interested  in  subjest  speak  with 
great  force  and  energy.  I  understand  that  my  tem- 
perament is  very  favorable  for  an  actar.  Fowler  say's 
that  I  am  naturally  well  qualified  for  an  actar.  My  height 
is  5  ft  5|  inches  with  boots  off,  light  build,  light  complex- 
ion, black  hair,  dark  gray  eyes,  prominiant  arched  eye 
brows,  somewhat  round  shouldered.  My  voice  is  com- 
paratively strong  and  good  but  w^ould  be  improved  by 
cultivation.  I  think  I  could  make  a  good  comic  acter,  so 
my  friends  tell  me.  I  think  I  could  represent  the  passions 
of  grief  and  dispair  as  well  as  any.  There  is  no  passion 
but  what  I  could  express,  without  it  is  conjugal  love  ? 
with  a  little  practice  I  think  I  could  do  that  as  well  as  it 
is  generally  done.  I  am  willing  to  commence  just  as  far 
down  the  lader  as  it  is  necessary  in  order  to  do  well  what 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  131 

I  attempt  to  do.  Please  answer  this  as  son  as  you  cau 
and  tell  me  what  wages  I  can  get,  and  whether  you  can 
employ  me  or  not. 

Please  address 

D.  A.  P e 

Randolph,  N.  Y. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

All  the  secrets  of  our  camp  I'll  show 

Their  force,  their  purposes;  nay,  I'll  speak  that 

Which  you  will  wonder  at." 

JllVs  Well  that  Ends  Well.     Act  4.     Scene  1. 

BEHIND    THE    SCENES. 

[Theatre.  The  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  engaged  at  this  Thea- 
tre for  the  ensuing  season,  are  requested  to  assemble  in  the  Green 

Room,   at  eleven    o'clock,    on day,  the inst.,   prior   to 

the  commencement  of  the  season  on  the .     By  order , 

Stage  Manager.     Vide  Herald.'] 

The  amusement  seeker  cannot  resist  viewing  with  feel- 
ings of  curiosity  the  above  announcement  of  the  open- 
ing of  the  favorite  places  of  entertainment  for  the  fall 
and  winter  months.  It  is  a  matter  of  especial  interest  to 
watch  for  the  first  issue  of  a  full  list  of  the  company, 
particularly  the  names  of  the  ladies. 

Every  theatre  has  in  its  corps  drmnatique  some  one, 
or  two,  just  budding  into  womanhood,  and  into  the  mys- 
teries of  their  profession,  who  are  subjects  of  comment 
and  admiration,  among  the  juvenile  portion  of  the  oppos- 
ite sex, —  gents  who  take  especial  care  of  their  personal 
appearance,  and  are  scrupulous  on  the  subject  of  neck- 
ties, dress  canes,  and  the  most  distingue  perfume. 

The  more  mature  admirers  of  the  theatre  are  not  with- 
out their  cogitations  on  the  approaching  campaign.  Their 
tastes  are  for  the  fine  old  solid  drama.  They  can  look 
back  with  regret  to  the  palmy  days  of  the  Park,  and  have 
a  pleasing  and  vivid  remembrance  of  losing  their  coat 


rOOTLIGlIT   FLASHES.  133 

tails  in  effecting  an  entrance  into  the  pit  of  that  once 
popular  establishment  on  the  opening  of  the  season,  five 
and  thirty  years  ago. 

The  anxiety  without  the  confines  of  the  dramatic  tem- 
ple, are  as  nothing  when  compared  with  the  evident  un- 
easiness tcithin  its  jDortals.  The  stage  manager  is  daily 
closeted  with  the  scenic  artist,  and  the  prompter;  the 
latter's  duty  being  to  furnish  a  list  of  the  scenes,  and  pro- 
perties requisite  for  the  faithful  representation  of  the  new 
drama  of  startling,  and  novel  interest. 

The  manager  looks  careworn  but  confident,  as  he 
emerges  from  his  private  office,  and  is  waylaid  in  one  of  the 
passages  by  an  actor  whom  he  has  already  three  times 
orally,  and  once  by  letter,  informed,  "he  can  really  find 
no  opening  for." 

The  meeting  day  arrives,  and  with  it  a  portion  of  the 
company,  the  new  members  generally  putting  in  an  early 
appearance,  and  who  beguile  the  time  by  traversing  the 
stage  in  pairs,  and  contrasting  the  capabilities  of  the  au- 
ditorium with  the  one  they  have  just  quitted. 

The  ladies,  smiling  pleasantly  beneath  the  pressure  of 
millinery  artifice,  have  seated  themselves  in  the  green 
room,  awaiting  the  important  event.  Some  of  the  old 
established  members  of  the  company  are  absent,  enjoying 
their  seaside  recreations,  or  enlightening  the  inhabitants 
of  the  smaller  cities  with  the  rendition  of  the  choicest 
gems  in  their  repertoire  of  last  season. 

Presently,  one  or  two  of  the  new  members  stroll  into 
the  room,  hat  in  hand,  striving  to  seem  perfectly  at  ease, 
when  in  fact  they  are  anxious,  and  diffident,  and  the 
counterfeit  glares  boldly  out  in  spite  of  their  efibrts  to 
conceal  it.  They  are  probably  reflecting  on  the  chances 
of  success  in  their  new,  and  more  extensive  field  of  ac- 
tion ;  or  wondering  if  the  quality  of  their  opening  part, 
will  be  in  accordance  with  the  promises  made  to  give 
them  a  "  foir  show." 


134  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  says  the  stage  manager,  coming 
into  Auolent  collision  with  a  timid  youth  who  is  engaged 
to  make  himself  generally  useful,  as  he  is  rounding  a 
sharp  angle  of  the  passage,  near  the  green  room  door. 
Youth  smiles  upon  the  manager,  and,  despite  the  uneasi- 
ness consequent  on  the  puncture  of  a  scarf  pin  he  wears, 
assumes  an  aspect  of  affability,  and  apologizes  in  return. 

You  enter  the  interdicted  apartment,  and  the  ceremo- 
ny of  introduction  takes  place.  The  manager,  with  the  gal- 
lantry for  which  his  race(?)  is  distinguished,  runs  through 
the  opreation  as  speedily  as  possible,  and  hastily  sallies 
forth  to  find  the  messenger,  who  is  holding  a  conference 
with  the  back  door  keeper,  on  the  merits  of  the  several 
candidates  for  the  next  municipal  election  ;  but  who  is 
speedily  cut  short  in  his  favorite  theme  by  a  request  to 
find  the  gas-man,  and  acquaint  him  that  the  manager 
would  like  to  see  him  in  his  office,  in  the  course  of  the 
morning. 

The  sun  having  gone  down  on  the  company's  embar- 
rassment by  the  arrival  of  the  first  old  woman,  who  re- 
sides up  town,  and  always  prides  herself  on  her  punctu- 
ality in  all  business  matters,  and  accounts  for  her  present 
delay  by  assuring  the  company  present  that  she  had  not 
the  slightest  idea  it  was  so  late  by  at  least  an  hour, —  that 
she  had  for  some  time  suspected  her  hand-maiden  of 
tampering  with  the  family  timepiece,  now  she  was  sure 
of  it.  She  had  submitted  to  a  great  deal  from  that  un- 
grateful girl.  "  My  dear,  you  don't  know !  "  (addressing 
herself  to  the  second  walking  lady,)  "  what  I  have  done 
for  that  girl.  Ah,  well !  have  you  heard  from  your  sister 
since  her  marriage  ?  " 

"  Oh !  dear  me,  yes.  I  got  a  letter  only  yesterday," 
says  the  lady  appealed  to,  and  "  would  you  believe  it," 
placing  her  mouth  close  to  the  ear  of  the  first  old  woman, 
who  starts,  with  astonishment  and  pleasure  depicted  in 
lier  face. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  135 

"No!" 

«  Yes ! " 

"  Well,  give  my  kind  regards,  and  congratulations  when 
you  write,"  says  the  first  old  woman  ! 

"  They  were  coming  on  here  !  "  says  the  second  walk- 
ing lady,  "  but  Mr. ,  the  manager,  has  taken  another 

theatre  for  a  short  season,  and  they  are  going  to  remain 
with  him." 

Observe  the  two  gentlemen  who  are  looking  at  the 
printed  list  of  rules  and  regulations  posted  on  the  wall 
beside  the  glass  case,  wherein  the  calls  for  rehearsals  are 
placed.  It  is  a  terrible  document,  and  sets  forth  at 
length  the  several  acts  of  insubordination  any  member  of 
the  company  may  commit,  with  the  amount  of  pecuniary 
punishment  consefjuent  thereon, —  an  exclusive  privilege 
possessed  by  one  of  the  contracting  parties,  who  is,  at 
times,  expected  to  sign,  and  abide  by  the  conditions, 
without  having  to  enforce  an  equivalent  regard  for  its 
faithful  response. 

The  one  in  the  suit  of  cocoa-colored  clothes,  with  but- 
tons significant  of  sporting  life,  and  cravat  with  pattern 
of  brilliant  hue,  striped  upon  the  ends,  is  at  present  un- 
known in  the  metropolis,  and  has  been  engaged  at  the 
strong  solicitation  of  some  friend  of  the  manager,  and  is 
under  promise  to  receive  a  share  of  some  of  the  comedy. 
He  is  a  great  favorite  in  his  own  locality,  in  proof  whereof 
a  grand  complimentary  supper,  and  profitable  benefit,  was 
lately  tendered  him  by  the  citizens,  dignitaries  of  the 
bar,  and  others  high  in  oflScial  significance,  to  which  he 
responded,  brimming  over  with  gratitude  and  emotion 
that, 

"Through  the  intricacies  of  his  early  career  they  —  his 
patrons  —  had,  by  their  encouraging  approval,  cheered 
him  onward,  stimulating  him  to  attain  a  prominence  at 
the  very   summit  of  his  art.     Each  round  up  the  ladder 


136  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

of  fame  that  he  might  be  destined  to  mount,  would  but 
augment  the  debt  of  gratitude  he  should  never  be  able 
to  liquidate.  And  whether  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson, 
the  plains  of  the  El  Dorado,  or  amongst  the  luscious  fruits 
of  the  sunny  South,  fortune  might  cast  him,  the  present 
would  ever  be  registered  in  the  tablet  of  his  memory  as 
the  proudest  moment  of  his  chequered  existence." 

The  other  is  of  more  fashionable  exterior,  and  is  about 
to  make  his  entre  into  the  capital  city  after  a  few  months' 
probation  in  the  provinces.  He  has  already  committed 
sad  havoc  in  OJie  female  breast,  at  least,  for  on  his  depart- 
ture  from  his  late  field  of  action  he  received  a  pleasing 
little  souvenir,  in  the  shape  of  a  watch  guard  manufac- 
tured from  the  lady's  hair,  with  an  anonymous  communica- 
tion to  the  effect  that — 

"  One  who  was  at  present  unknown  to  him  desired  his 
acceptance  of  this  small  token  of  her  esteem.  Hoping  that 
when  far  distant  he  would  think  of  his  visit  to  her  native 
town  with  none  other  than  emotions  of  pleasure,  and  par- 
don her  boldness  in  perpetrating  an  act  she  felt  it  impos- 
sible to  repress." 

Three  of  the  ladies  have  already  decided  that  he  is 
very  good  looking;  the  more  youthful  of  the  trio  adding 
as  an  individual  appendix, 

"  That  he  is  real  sweet." 

lie  is  to  take  charge  of  the  young  men  in  the  farces, 
and  for  which  his  appearance  eminently  fits  him. 

'^  Hallo,  old  fellow !  how  are  you  ?  "  says  a  gentleman  of 
a  rather  rubicund  tint,  and  on  whom  the  good  things  of 
this  life  are  evidently  not  thrown  away. 

"  By  George,  you  look  well !  Country  air,  and  no  bad 
parts  to  study,  eh  ?  Ah,  they  wear  out  a  man's  constitu- 
tion most  confoundedly.  Look  at  me  !  I  believe  I've 
played  during  the  last  three  years  more  bad  parts  than 
any  three  men  in  the  profession,  but   I'm    callous  to  mis- 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  137 

ery,  sir.     Xever  got  one  decent  show  all  last  season,  but 
I  can  brave  the  storm.     Let  it  rage  on  for  aught  I  care. 

"  Ladies,  how  are  you  ?  Glad  to  see  you.  Hope  you've 
enjoyed  yourselves  through  the  summer,  "Where  have 
you  all  been,  eh  ?  Breaking  the  hearts  of  us  poor  mortals 
as  usual,  I  suppose." 

This  complimentary  remark  is  addressed  to  the  ladies 
by  the  comedian  ;  who,  without  waiting  for  a  reply, 
takes  the  arm  of  the  second  old  man,  and  enquires  where 
the  lady  sitting  in  the  corner,  with  the  blue  hat,  and  eyes 
to  match,  hails  from.  The  lady  thus  alluded  to,  but  who 
is  quite  unconscious  of  the  compliment,  is  destined  to 
enact  the  boarding  school  misses,  who  will,  in  opposition 
to  the  parental  desire,  (as  in  real  life),  unite  her  destiny 
with  the  object  of  her  own  j^reference,  despite  his  needy 
exchequer. 

The  call  boy  now  makes  his  appearence,  with  a  slip  of 
paper  which  he  securely  locks  inside  the  glass  case  be- 
fore alluded  to.  The  same  contains  the  following  piece 
of  information. 

Tuesday. — Everybody  for  reading  new  piece  in  Green-room  !  ! 

The  said  "  everybody  "  now  begins  to  take  its  departure. 
The  ladies  in  little  knots  of  two's,  and  three's,  to  indulge 
in  a  stroll  by  the  most  fashionable  stores,  and  the  gentle- 
men to  satisfy  tlieir  own  indulgences  in  various  ways. 

If  the  drama  to  be  read  be  of  native  manufacture,  the 
author,  or  concoctor,  will  be  marshalled  to  his  seat  with 
some  degree  of  ceremony,  by  the  stage  manager,  Avho 
will  speedily  avail  himself  of  the  very  first  opportunity 
to  escape  another  infliction  he  has  already  been  bored 
with.  If,  however,  he  be  an  actor,  or  an  adept  at  dramatic 
upholstering,  he  will  boldly  take  his  seat,  unfolding  the 
dreadful  document  with  the  air  of  one  skilled  in  the  suf- 
ferings of  his  fellow  creatures. 


138  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

Judges  of  physiognomy  can  very  readily  discover  the 
estimate  the  exponents  of  the  several  characters  en- 
tertain of  the  one  allotted  to  their  charge.  Those  having 
the  conduct  of  the  plot,  and  the  majority  of  the  best 
situations,  pay  the  most  profound  attention  to  the  cer- 
emony;  while  the  less  fortunate,  look  with  a  glare  of  dis- 
trust and  doubt  on  the  probability  of  its  success. 

Those  from  the  provinces,  whose  hopes  have  been 
buoyed  up  with  the  promise  of  a  good  opening  part,  be- 
take themselves  to  their  dwelling  places  with  a  firm  con- 
viction rooted  in  their  minds,  that  there  is  evidently  a 
combination  to  crush  them  ;  for  who  could  possibly  do 
anything  with  such  a  part  as  they  have  each  assigned 
them.  "  My  boy,"  says  an  injured  one,  "  there's  not  a 
line  in  it." 

"  Why,  my  dear  sir,"  urges  a  gentleman,  (who  has  been 
very  M'ell  taken  care  of  by  the  dramatist)  "  you  have  a 
capital  scene  in  the  third  act,  and  another  in  the  fourth." 

"  The  third  act  !  "  why,  my  good  sir,  the  scene  is  sim- 
ply a  feeder  to  the  count,  who  has  every  climax  through- 
out the  interview;  while  in  the  foui'th,  the  low  comedy 
part  is  on  the  stage  all  the  time  ;  therefore,  what  oppor- 
tunity can  there  be  for  quiet,  subtle  expression,  with  a 
buffoon  at  your  elbow  !  My  dear  boy,  no  one  can  resist 
the  assaults  of  a  clown.  If  you  were  acting  Hamlet  in  the 
most  perfect  manner,  and  after  the  grave-digger  had  hand- 
ed you  the  skull  of  Yorick,  and  you  made  up  your  mind 
to  produce  a  thrilling  effect  in  the  soliloquy,  what  would 
be  the  state  of  your  feelings  if  you  heard  the  audience  in 
a  roar  of  laughter,  and  on  turning  to  discover  the  cause 
of  their  merriment,  you  beheld  the  grave-digger  playing  a 
nigger  air  with  some  other  portion  of  the  dej^arted  jester's 
anatomy." 

"  I  don't  believe  the  piece  will  go ;  the  interest  is  centered 
too  much  in  the  female  character,  to  the  entire  exclusion 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  139 

of  the  lofty  grandeur  which  the  author  might  have  avail- 
ed himself  of  in  the  scene  where  I  encounter  the  duke  for 
the  first  time.  This  I  consider  will  be  the  fatal  error, 
and  the  audience  will  not  be  slow  to  detect  it." 

Each  day's  rehearsal  brings  the  matter  more  plainly  to 
the  minds  of  every  one  concerned.  The  leading  lady 
has  a  very  long  part,  which  she  commits  to  memory  as 
speedily  as  possible,  and  is  perfect  in  the  text  several  days 
prior  to  the  production  of  the  piece.  The  less  fortunate 
ones  in  the  dramatist's  esteem  are  somewhat  tardy  in  ac- 
quiring the  words,  which  invoke  from  the  manager  the 
following  peremptory  order. 

Thursday. — New  play!! — 11. 

Notice. — The  nianager  particularly  requests  the  same  may  be 
rehearsed  without  parts. 

Which  manifesto  the  call-boy,  if  he  be  of  an  hilarious 
temperament,  posts  np  with  a  look  of  ineffable  disdain  at 
the  delinquents,  as  he  quits  the  room. 

The  occupation  of  this  individual,  as  his  name  clearly 
implies,  is  to  summon  the  dramatis  personce  from  the 
green-room  when  their  services  are  required  npon  the 
stage.  He  is  not  unfrequently  the  offspring  of  an  actoi-, 
with  a  widowed  mother,  to  whose  comforts  he  cheerfully 
ministers,  out  of  very  scanty  materials.  Or  he  may  be  a 
resident  of  the  neighborhood  in  which  the  theatre  is 
situated,  whose  instincts  from  the  first  time  he  watched 
patiently  at  the  stage-door,  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  in  a 
pelting  snow-storm,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  principal 
tragedian  as  he  departed  from  rehearsal,  have  led  him, 
from  an  irrepressible  love  for  the  place,  to  seek  employ- 
ment within  its  precincts. 

When  thoroughly  installed  in  oflice,  the  distinctive  fea- 
tures of  liis  character  are  the  same,  or  nearly  so,  irrespec- 
tive of  his  ancestral  origin.     Punctually,  at  the  hour  ap- 


140 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


pointed  for  the  first  rehearsal  of  the  morning,  he  places 
upon  the  prompter's  table  pens,  ink,  the  j^romiDt  book, 
and  a  written  cast  of  the  play  to  be  rehearsed  —  the  lat- 
ter of  which  he  procured  from  the  call  case  in  the  green 
room,  where  it  has  been  placed  for  the  purpose  of  notify- 
ing the  several  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  part  they  are 
to  assume  at  its  representation. 


The  Call  Boy. 

Arming  himself  with  his  list  of  names,  arranged  in 
numeric  order  as  they  will  be  required,  he  awaits  in- 
structions from  the  prompter  —  who,  in  due  time,  and 
after  consulting  his  watch,  to  be  certain  that  the  usual 
ten  minutes'  grace  allowed  for  the  first  call  has  transpired, 


FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES.  141 

desires  him  to  call  one.  He  thereupon  proceeds  to  the 
green  room,  and  from  the  raemorandura  above  described, 
audibly  requests  the  parties  whose  names  are  appended 
to  number  one,  to  attend  upon  the  stage  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  morning's  business. 

When  not  actively  engaged  in  the  duties  of  his  office, 
the  call  boy  will  frequently  beguile  the  tedium  of  the 
morning  by  a  tete-a-tete  with  one  of  the  most  juvenile  of 
the  ladies  attached  to  the  ballet  department,  or  exhibit 
his  dexterity  in  terpsichoreau  gyrations  by  indulging  in 
Ethiopian  break-clowns  in  a  secluded  corner,  in  a  selfish 
manner. 

The  youthful  designation  awarded  the  subject  of  our 
sketch,  is  sometimes  as  much  a  misnomer  as  a  similar  one 
bestowed  upon  the  individual  who  forms  an  important 
item  in  the  domestic  machinery  of  the  country  inn,  and 
y'clept  the  post  boy.  He,  and  his  companion  of  the  sta- 
ble, not  unfrequently  exercise  the  duties  of  their  office 
after  they  have  for  many  years  assumed  the  trying  re- 
sponsibilities of  parental  honors  !  We  once  knew  a  call 
boy  who,  in  stature,  was  scarcely  up  to  half  a  score  ;  but 
in  feature,  was  any  age  you  thought  proper  to  fancy,  from 
twenty  to  sixty.  He  was  a  good,  simple-hearted  little  fel- 
low, much  admired  by  the  members  of  the  company,  par- 
ticularly the  ladies,  to  whom  he  was  the  very  Beau  Brum- 
mel  of  politeness.  He  had  a  wife  of  l^rculean  mould, 
and  who  added  to  her  other  accomplishments  the  charac- 
ter of  the  matrimonial  martinet. 

I  took  occasion  once  to  question  Joe  on  the  nature  of 
his  domestic  relations,  insinuating  that  I  had  no  idea  of 
finding  his  name  entered  upon  the  connubial  list,  from  the 
attention  he  bestowed  on  the  ladies  —  that  his  manners 
and  deportment  were  of  that  attractive  kind  that,  had  I  a 
daughter  or  female  relation  at  a  marriageable  stage,  I 
should  be  somewhat  alarmed  less  his  persuasive  powers 


142  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

should  tempt  her  to  sever  the  tie  that  bound  her  to  her 
childhood's  home,  and  become  his  exclusive  property  at 
the  hymeneal  alter. 

"  Oh !  that's  all  very  well,  and  nice  sort  of  talking ; 
but  you  see,  sir,"  said  my  minute  friend,  "  man  can't  help 
having  the  natural  instincts  of  his  race  uppermost  in  his 
thoughts." 

"  Decidedly,"  said  I,  "  who  dares  to  doubt  one  of  Na- 
ture's most  peremptory  laws." 

"Now,  look  here,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  I  have  a  wife, it's 
true  ;  but,  lor'  bless  you,  there  ain't  not  no  congeniality 
of  sentiment  between  us.  She's  a  woman  as  is  all  self; 
she  ain't  got  none  of  what  you  called,  in  that  piece  the 
other  night,  the  '  essential  oil  of  sympathy '  in  her.  Why, 
sir,  I  can't  ever  get  a  favorite  meal's  victuals  when  I  want 
it.  Only  the  other  night  I  took  home  for  supper  a  dish 
I'm  passionately  fond  of — pig's  fry,  sir.  Did  you  ever 
taste  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,  sir, —  would  you  believe  it  ?  she  threw  it  all  into 
the  street,  and  declared  if  I  ever  presumed  to  bring  such 
rubbish  into  the  house  again  she  would  most  certainly 
pitch  me  after  it !  She's  a  frightful  jealous  woman,  too, 
sir,  and  so  terrible  unreasonable  !  About  a  month  ago  I 
thought,  as  she  was  busy  down  stairs,  that  I  would  copy 
a  letter  I  had  to  do  for  the  first  call  in  the  morning.  Af- 
ter finishing  I  placed  it  in  my  hat,  intending  to  seal  it  at 
the  theatre.  I  proceeded  to  indulge  in  my  usual  after- 
noon's nap,  when  I  was  suddenly  aroused  by  a  powerful 
blow  over  my  head,  which  nearly  stunned  me.  On  com- 
ing to  myself,  I  found  her  standing  over  me  with  the  letter 
in  her  grasp,  foaming  with  rage,  and  in  the  most  violent 
terms  charging  me  with  the  grossest  impropriety  in  keep- 
ing up  a  corresjjondence  with  an  individual  called  Jemima 
Stokes,  because  the  letter  was  written  in  a  loving  strain 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES,  143 

to  a  female  of  that  name  in  the  new  farce  we  did.  I  de- 
dared  it  meant  nothing,  and  produced  the  manuscript, 
wliich  she  refused  to  look  at,  threw  a  chair  at  me,  and  be- 
haved altogether  in  the  most  dreadful  manner  possible. 
So  you  see, sir,  what  can  a  man  do?  I  believe  in  fulfilling 
one's  destiny,  sir.  Now,  I  know,  as  all  men  must,  that 
we  are  formed  by  nature  to  pay  homage  to  the  sex,  and 
as  I  am  debarred  exercising  that  duty  at  home,  by  reason 
of  ray  wife's  infirmity  of  temper,  why,  sir,  I  consider  the 
little  bits  of  politeness  I  show  the  fair  sex  here,  as  we 
meet  in  our  daily  occupation,  as  part  payment  of  that  du- 
ty ;  and  I  hope  there  will  not  be  found  a  large  balance 
of  neglect  against  me  in  the  next  world.  Did  I  call  you, 
sir?  dear  me,  really,  I  think  the  stage  must  be  waiting 
for  you,  sir  ?  " 

If  impressed  with  a  desire  to  adopt  the  stage  as  a  pro- 
fession, the  cnll  boy  will  occasionally  be  entrusted  with 
parts  adapted  to  his  youthful  appearance  ;  and  it  not  un- 
frequently  happens,  in  theatres  where  the  number  of  util- 
ity, or  small  people,  as  they  are  called,  are  deficient,  that 
the  subject  of  our  enquiry  will  be  pressed  into  the  ser- 
vice, to  assist  in  the  formation  of  a  band  of  robbers,  whose 
bronzed  features,  and  thickly-set,  hirsute  appendages, 
(with  the  prescribed  amount  of  deadly  weapons,)  con- 
trast strangely  with  his  smooth  skin,  and  slenderly-knit 
frame. 

Many  of  the  very  best  actors  the  stage  has  produced, 
commenced  their  professional  career  in  this  capacity. 
Many,  too,  abandon  it  when  they  arrive  at  man's  estate, 
and  pass  the  balance  of  their  days  in  the  more  profitable 
jDursuit  of  trade  or  commerce. 

In  regard  to  my  friend,  Joe,  I  think  it  extremely  prob- 
able that  he  will  steadily  cling  to  the  Thespian  temple, 
being  too  far  propelled  down  the  hill  of  time  to  adapt 
himself  to  any  other  mode  of  life. 


144  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

His  early  history  was  a  chequered  one.  It  pleased  Na- 
ture to  construct  him  on  so  economical  a  scale,  that  he 
was  enabled  to  acquire  a  decent  competence  by  gratify- 
ing the  public  appetite  for  sight-seeing,  and  exhibiting 
himself  as  a  dwarf.  Patronage  flowed  with  acceptable 
celerity  into  his  exchequer,  until  he  had  reached  his  six- 
teenth year.  Up  to  that  time  he  had  been  closely  scru- 
tinized by  the  faculty,  interrogated  by  the  inquisitive, 
and  admired  by  the  curious. 

At  that  very  impressible  period  of  his  career  it  pleased 
Nature,  who  had  perhaps  woke  up  to  the  unfertility  of 
his  mould,  to  suddenly  make  the  reparation,  and  expand 
his  longitudinal  significance  three  inches  and  a  quarter, 
in  the  short  space  of  eighteen  months.  To  this  irrepar- 
able disaster  was  added  the  arrival  from  a  distant  land  of 
a  distinguished  stranger,  who  was  an  adept  at  languages, 
living,  and  dead  —  and,  without  his  shoes,  measured  six 
inches  less  than  our  friend's  professional  altitude  prior  to 
his  recent  growth.  He  quitted  the  field  of  instructive 
usefulness  in  disgust,  seeking  refuge  in  occasional  attacks 
of  alcoholic  sentiment,  conscious  that  his  destiny  had 
been  most  remorselessly  evaded,  and  that  his  liliputian 
star  had  forever  set. 

The  eventful  night  for  the  production  of  the  new  piece 
arrives,  and  with  it  the  family  of  the  author;  who, 
to  avoid  the  pressure  of  the  crowd,  are  admitted  at  the 
stage  door  and  escorted  to  a  private  box,  where  they  are 
generally  very  conspicuous  during  the  performance,  with 
the  trembling  author  in  their  rear,  enduring  the  most 
poignant  torture  whenever  an  actor  takes  the  liberty  of 
substituting  a  line  or  word  for  which  he  is  not  responsi- 
ble. 

"  Half  an  hour,  ladies,"  roars  the  call-boy  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  leading  to  the  dressing-rooms  ;  and   after  per- 


FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES.  145 

forming  the  same  office  for  the  gentlemen,  retm*ns  to  the 
stage,  where  he  takes  a  survey  of  the  audience  through  a 
hole  in  the  green  curtain,  till  requested  by  the  prompter 
to  collect  his  properties  for  the  first  piece. 

The  dressing  rooms  become  a  scene  of  the  greatest 
confusion.  The  dressers  are  dispatched  to  the  wardrobe 
to  obtain  a  belt  for  one  gentleman's  dress  ;  another's 
doublet  wont  meet  at  the  back,  and  has  to  be  ripped  up 
in  consequence.  The  confidential  friend,  in  social  pleas- 
ure as  well  as  inate  villany,  of  the  usui'ping  Duke,  has  for- 
gotten his  feathers.  The  walking  gentleman's  patience 
is  getting  exhausted,  as  he  intimates  to  his  dresser  that  he 
begins  the  piece  ;  and  he,  (the  dresser)  must  be  quick  sew- 
ing those  buckles  into  his  shoes,  or  he  cannot  be  ready 
when  wanted. 

The  ladies  are  in  a  similar  predicament.  Nobody  has 
any  large  pins  —  while  a  most  important  article  of  cos- 
tume has  been  entirely  forgotten  in  one  instance ;  the 
consequences  of  which  would  be  most  distressing  if  some 
substitute  cannot  be  provided.  The  ingenuity  of  the  sex, 
however,  soon  surmounts  the  difliculty,  and  the  boy's 
voice  is  again  heard,  calling : 

"Ten  minutes,  ladies." 

If  within  the  proximity  of  the  music-room,  you  now, 
for  the  first  time,  experience  a  most  unjileasant  sensation 
of  musical  discords  from  the  gentlemen  who  compose  the 
orchestra.  These  paroxysms  of  internal  suiFering  are  per- 
severed in  till  the  ringing  of  a  small  bell  happily  comes 
to  the  rescue  ;  and  the  instrumental  performers  emerge 
from  a  queerly  constructed  apartment,  and  doubling 
themselves  up  into  the  smallest  possible  compass,  disap- 
pear into  the  orchestra,  the  leader  somewhat  varying  the 
order  of  his  nominal  sobriquet,  by  tanlily  bringing  up 
the  rear,  in  the  hope  of  receiving  the  recognition  of  the 
audience  on  taking  his  seat. 
7 


146  rOOTLlGHT    FLASHES. 

"  Overture,"  calls  the  boy,  and  while  that  prelude  takes 
place,  let  us  in  the  course  of  our  peregrinations  enter  the 
sanctum  y'clept  the 

MUSIC   ROOM. 

This  apartment  cannot  lay  claim  to  much  architectural 
elegance,  being  disproportioned  in  size,  and  deficient  of 
the  principles  of  ventilation  to  an  oppressive  degree. 

Its  furniture  consists  of  a  long  pine  table,  and  two  or 
three  benches  of  a  similar  material.  Depending  from  the 
walls  are  the  hats  and  overcoats  belonging  to  the  band, 
while  the  cases  in  which  they  keep  their  instruments  are 
scattered  in  every  direction.  The  gas  burner  is  in  dan- 
gerous proximity  to  the  roof,  which  is  entirely  innocent 
of  plaster,  and  guarded  from  inevitable  conflagration  by  a 
sheet  of  blackened  tin. 

On  the  table  is  a  pile  of  written  music  for  the  orches- 
tra—  a  small  bottle  of  ink,  a  checker  board,  with  some 
of  the  pieces  missing,  but  their  places  supplied  with 
brace  buttons  of  nearly  approximating  colors  —  a  pack  of 
cards,  a  piece  of  rosin,  a  flute  case,  a  pounce,  or  sand 
box,  and  a  newspaper  printed  in  the  German  language. 

Such  is  the  apartment  in  which  the  gentlemen  of  the 
orchestra  while  away  their  spare  time  during  the  non- 
musical  portion  of  the  evening's  entertainment  —  in 
which  they  take  little  or  no  interest  —  till  summoned  by 
the  bell  of  the  prompter  to  resume  their  duties. 

They  are  generally  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  race  of  men, 
with  a  love  for  their  art,  and  the  principles  of  harmony, 
highly  creditable  under  the  adverse  fact  of  not  being  in 
receipt  of  a  very  handsome  independence  for  the  same, 
yet  they  always  appear  contented,  and  happy. 

The  overture  is  hardly  commenced,  when  the  prompter 
is  startled  by  the  information  conveyed  by  a  female  in  a 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  147 

great  state  of  excitement,  that  Miss  • cannot  possibly 

be  ready  because,  in  the  nervousness  of  a  first  night's  per- 
formance, the  shoes,  in  which  she  purposes  to  enact  her 
part,  have  been,  by  accident,  left  upon  the  dressing  table 
at  her  private  dwelling.  The  prompter,  —  by  no  means 
well  disposed  towards  excuses  of  this  nature,  —  insists 
that  the  curtain  must  rise  at  the  end  of  the  overture, 
that  the  lady  is  not  in  the  first  call,  that  she  will  have 
time  to  send  for  the  missing  articles,  and  that  he  shall 
not  wait ;  be  is,  however,  not  proof  against  the  earnest 
entreaties  of  the  handmaiden,  and  an  interregnum  occurs, 
which  brings  the  manager  from  his  ofiice  to  know  the 
reason  of  the  delay.  Prompter  explains,  manager  requests 
that  another  messenger  be  dispatched  forthwith  ;  that 
keeping  the  curtain  down  Avill  be  of  serious  injury  to  the 
new  piece,  etc.,  desires  that  the  band  play  s'omething,  and 
retires.  Prompter  calls  down  tin  tube  to  leader,  w^ho 
turns  back  two  or  three  pages,  and  repeats  from  the  alle- 
gro movement ;  the  which  he  has  scarcely  commenced, 
when  a  boy  very  much  overheated,  bounds  up  three  or 
four  stairs  at  a  time,  with  the  missing  shoes.  The  prompt- 
er is  requested  to  go  on  — the  overture  is  again  conclud- 
ed, —  prompter  taps  with  the  whistle  on  the  tin  tube 
communicating  with  the  flies,  rings  a  bell  terminating 
in  the  same  locality,  and  up  goes  the  curtain. 

The  first  scene  is  somewhat  short,  and  comprises  a  dis- 
sertion  on  Ethics  and  Moral  Philosophy,  by  three  retain- 
ers of  the  usurping  baron,  clearly  proving  the  acute 
research  of  the  author  in  the  habits  and  education  of  the 
peasantry  of  the  olden  time. 

"  Call  up  trumpet !  "  says  the  prompter  to  the  call-boy. 
The  latter  proceeds  to  the  music-room  to  request  the  at- 
tendance of  the  gentleman  who  assumes  the  responsibili- 
ty of  that  sonorous  instrument,  and  who  at  once  placed 
himself  in  such  a  position  readily  seen  by  the  prompter, 


148 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


when  that  individual  shall  require  him  to  announce  the 
approach  of  the  Duke  and  his  retinue,  by  a  vigorous 
flourish.     "  Call  two,"  says  the  prompter,  sotto  voce. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  says  the  boy,  and  repairs  to  the  green- 
room, where  he  delivers  himself  after  the  following  fash- 
ion. 

"Duke."  "Strato."  "Bertoldo."  "Marco."  "Eg- 
lantine." «  6  Men  at  Arms."  "  6  Ladies."  "  6  Pages." 
"12  Guards."     All  for  the  Act. 

One  of  the  men  at  arms  is  also  the  super-master  ;  whose 
duty  it  is  to  marshall  them  to  their  places,  see  they  are 
properly  costumed,  etc.  He  may  be  very  readily  distin- 
guished from  the  advantage  in  dress  he  possesses  over 
his  companions  ;  indeed,  he  will  often  avail  himself  of  the 
choice  habiliments  of  the  wardrobe,  regardless  of  the 
wants  of  the  principals,  who  will  be  startled  to  discover 
the  lacquey  better  fitted  than  the  master. 

Boy  returns,  and  the  prompter  en- 
quires "if  Jenkins  is  ready  at  the 
moon  ?  " 

This  precaution  is  taken  in  order 
that  the  next  scene,  which  is  the 
Ducal  Palace  with  a  centre  arch 
through  which  the  moon  is  seen  to 
shine,  may  not  be  discovered  before 
that  luminary  makes  her  appear- 
ance. 

"  All  right,  sir,"  responds  the  boy, 
after  satisfying  himself  of  the  fact. 

The  play  turns  out  a  success,  de- 
spite the  prediction  of  the  bad  part 
gentleman,  and  may  probably  keep 
the  stage  for  some  time.  During  its 
occupancy  of  the  boards,  let  us  assist 
at  the  rehearsals  of  its  successor. 


Moon  Box. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES, 


149 


Behind  the  scenes  of  a  theatre  is  not  by  any  means  the 
kind  of  place  the  dramatic  spectator  imagines  it  to  be. 
You  enter  the  stage  door  at  the  back,  or  side  of  the 
building,  where  you  may,  if  the  weather  be  cold,  find  the 
guardian  of  the  premises  refreshing  himself  with  a  peru- 
sal of  the  morning  paper,  by  the  warmth  of  the  stove. 
This  apartment  has  seldom  an  encouraging  aspect  to  a 
stranger.  It  is  neither  profuse  in  its  facilities  for  domes- 
tic comfort,  nor  distinguished  for  architectural  elegance  ; 
having  in  many  instances,  been  surreptitiously  appropri- 
ated from  the  general  structure  ;  hence  its  irregular,  and 
unartistic  developement. 


The  Flats. 

From  the  wall  hangs  a  small  case  for  posting  up  the 
call  for  rehearsals,  an  alphabetical  rack  for  the  reception 
of  letters  addressed  to  the  members  of  the  company  ;  — 
these,  with  a  clock,  two  chairs,  and  a  small  table,  com- 
plete the  decorations. 


150 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


The  stage  itself  does  not  possess  much  advantage  in 
point  of  comfort  over  the  apartment  just  noted,  as  you 
will  readily  find  by  pushing  open  the  swing  door  to  your 
left.  The  momentary  blindness  you  at  once  experience 
when  you  are  within  its  precincts,  causes  you  to  falter, 
lest  you  find  yourself  precipitated  into  some  cavernous 
retreat,  with  which  you  feel  assured  the  place  abounds. 
You  speedily  get  used  to  the  darkness,  and  by  the  scan- 
ty light  afforded  from  two  or  three  small  windows,  near 
the  roof,  you  are  on  the  stage. 

Rehearsal  has  not  yet  commenced,  and  you  have  am- 
ple time  to  examine  every  part  of  the  building  minutely. 
The  first  thing  that  attracts  your  attention,  is  one  of 
the  carpenters,  who  is  employed  repairing  the  turret  win- 
dow of  the  Duke's  castle, —  the  said  edifice  being  re- 
duced from  its  perpendicular  grandeur,  and  lying  flat  on 
its  back  for  that  purpose. 

The  scenery  is  pushed  back  as  far  as  it  will  go  in  the 
slides,  or  grooves,  so  called,  and  presents  in  its  compact 
mass,  a  strange  admixture  of  regal  magnificence,  and 
squalid  penury.  My  lady's  boudoir  is  in  closer  proximi- 
ty to  the  laborer's  cottage,  than 
their  desires  are  ever  likely  to  as- 
similate in  their  journey  through 
the  actual  voyage  of  life ;  and  the 
bright,  cheerful  landscape,  redo- 
lent of  unfettered  liberty,  stands 
side  by  side  with  the  dungeon's 
dark,  and  dreary  terrors,  an  inter- 
esting episode  in  our  morning's 
peregrinations. 

"  What  are  those  long  rows  of 
formidable  looking  implements  we 
see  hanging  on  the  walls?  They 
are  made  of  wood,  mounted  with 
iron   hooks   at  one  end,  and  cir- 


-v/H 


The  Brace. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES, 


151 


cular  holes  at  the  other.  Are  they  instruments  of  tor- 
ture ?  They  are  called  braces,  and  are  used  for  sustain- 
ing the  weight  of  cottages,  trees,  and  set  pieces  of  all 
kinds.  Cast  your  eyes  upward,  and  what  a  mass  of  cord- 
age meets  your  gaze.  There  are  more  ropes  than  would 
suffice  for  a  A'essel  of  a  thousand  tons'  register.  They  are 
used  for  sustaining  the  borders  —  the  short  pieces  of 
painted  canvas  that  form,  to  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  the 
horizon,  or  ceiling,  of  the  apartment  represented. 


The  Traveller. 

Elevated  some  distance  above  the  borders  is  what  is 
called  the  "  traveller."  This  consists  of  a  strong  frame 
of  wood  work  fixed  into  a  grooved  receiver ;  by  the  aid 
of  which  fairies  or  demons  are  enabled  to  pass  from  side 
to  side,  while  suspended  by  very  stout  wires. 

The  gas  man  is  employed  cleaning  the  glasses  belong- 
ing to  the  lights  which  surmount  the  orchestra ;  these 
are  called  "  float  lights."  His  duty  is  to  take  charge  of 
the  gas  apparatus  before,  as  well  as  behind  the  curtain. 
The  sparkling  waters,  the  transparent  windows  of  the 
chapel,  the  pale  moonbeams,  are  all  indebted  for  their 
matchless  effulgence,  to  the  gas  man. 

He  disposes  of  his  light  to  any  given  point  by  means 
of  flexible  tubes,  some  of  which  are,  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, stacked  in  a  corner  at  the  back  of  the  stage. 

The  stage  itself,  when  not  engaged  in  the  exercise  of 
its  proper,  and  destined  office,  has  a  very  forlorn  and 
dreary  aspect. 


152        '  FOOTLIGUT    FLASHES. 

Where  are  the  splendid  suits  of  furniture  that  we  so 
much  admired  only  last  evening?  —  the  tapestry  carpets, 
the  dais  of  crimson  velvet  that  carried  us  back  to  the 
period  of  the  middle  ages?  Where  are  the  rare-looking 
articles  of  virtu  with  which  the  scene  was  so  profusely 
provided  ?  The  property  man,  (for  that  is  his  depart- 
ment) has  carefully  stored  them  away  in  his  room  on  one 
side  of  the  stage  ;  while  the  carpet  of  such  gorgeous  pat- 
tern, is  suspended  by  cords,  and  run  up  by  pulleys,  where 
it  will  be  kept  in  a  perpetual  state  of  strangulation,  till 
required  for  use  in  the  evening. 

The  walls  which,  from  the  auditorium,  have  impressed 
you  with  the  conviction  of  their  architectural  beauty,  are 
now  seen  destitute  of  the  most  primitive  handicraft,  and 
are  in  precisely  the  same  condition  as  when  delivered 
from  the  hands  of  their  original  depositors. 

Our  recollection  wanders  back  to  the  period  of  inno- 
cent infancy  ;  to  the  interesting  occasion  of  the  first  play 
of  the  sensation  order  we  ever  witnessed.  It  was  one  of 
those  intensely  exciting  romances,  in  which  the  four  sea- 
sons of  the  year  are  represented. 

It  is  not  easy  to  forget  the  joy  we  experienced  when, 
relieved  from  the  thraldom  of  scholastic  tyranny,  we 
watched  the  mechanical  changes  with  which  the  drama 
was  plentifully  supplied.  One  section  of  the  play  conclu- 
ded with  one  of  those  brilliant  displays  of  colored  fire, 
without  which  a  voracious  audience  would  consider  them- 
selves deprived  of  one  of  their  greatest  enjoyments. 

I  remember  trying  an  experiment  with  saltpetre,  and 
some  other  combustible  materials,  much  to  the  disgust  and 
discomfiture  of  the  family,  who  Avere  almost  suffocated 
with  the  nauseous  effluvia  it  emitted,  and  who  couldn't 
compi-ehend  the  motive  of  the  sulphurous  visitation. 

Who,  of  my  readers,  has  not  witnessed  the  denoune- 
ment    of  a  drama,  wherein  a  ruffian    in  large  boots,  his 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  153 

waistband  plentifully  supplied  with  huge  pistols,  has,  by 
some  unaccountable  means,  gained  access  to  the  castle  of 
the  Baron,  and  is  plainly  seen  ransacking  his  private  papers 
by  the  light  of  the  moon  ;  and  subsequently,  his  figure 
is  clearly  discernible  making  a  precipitate  escape  through 
the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees,  immediately  preceding 
the  discovery  that  the  castle  is  in  flames.  How  intense 
is  the  excitement,  as  the  rightful  heir  to  the  estates,  (who 
has  been  for  years,  by  an  ingenious  contrivance  of  the 
dramatist,  engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits  in  a  far  distant 
land)  suddenly  presents  himself,  and  at  the  risk  of  his 
life,  penetrates  the  blazing  ruins ;  and  rescuing  the  title 
deeds  of  the  estates  intact  and  unharmed. 

Parlor  theatricals  have  lately  become  the  rage,  partic- 
ularly in  the  eastern  cities.  The  attempts  have  been 
chiefly  confined  to  comedies,  and  pieces  of  a  light,  and 
colloquial  character.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  expected  that 
the  sensation  spirit  of  the  age  will  slumber  in  the  bosoms 
of  histrionically  inclined  individuals.  Heart-stirring  and 
exciting  dramas  must  speedily  be  the  repertoire  for  the 
festive  seasons  of  the  year. 

The  liberality  of  the  present  age  is  so  remarkable,  that 
a  man  has  only  to  forward  three  postage  stamps  to  A,  B., 
to  be  immediately  possessed  of  the  secret  of  acquiiing  a 
speedy  competence ;  or  for  the  trifling  sum  of  twenty-five 
cents,  an  ingenious  domestic  economist  will  confer  valua- 
ble hints  whereby  the  entire  expense  of  your  household 
may  be  easily  defrayed,  at  a  saving  of  fifty  per  cent,  upon 
the  outlay  you  are  at  present  disbursing.  It  may  with 
equal  certainty  be  expected,  that  some  humane  purveyor 
will  ere  long  confer  upon  the  wonder-loving  public  an  ex- 
planatory volume  of  the  means  for  parlor  enjoyment, 
under  the  attractive  title  of  "  Every  Man  his  own  Stage- 
Manager." 

Should  the  instructions  therein  contained,  fail  to  fur- 
7* 


154  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

nish  the  means  to  produce  those  thrilling  effects  modern 
taste  craves,  as  indispensable  to  appease  the  general  ap- 
petite, the  following  receipts,  for  presenting  scenes,  with 
all  their  illuminative  brilliancy,  may  form  an  acceptable 
addenda  to  the  evening's  entertainment. 
For  a  conflragation  of, 


KED   EIRE. 

Strontia, 

8  oz. 

Potash, 

4  « 

Shellac, 

2  « 

Licopodlum,  . 

i" 

For  illuminating  a  hall  of  Statuary,  make  a 

W^HITE    FIRE. 

Nitre,     . 

8  oz. 

Sulphur,    . 

3  " 

Charcoal, 

i" 

Alum, 

i" 

Camphor 

*  " 

Should  the  entertainment  embrace  an  aquatic  display, 

where  fairies  are  holding  their  usual 

revelry,  light  them 

with  a 

BLUE    FIRE. 

Nitre,     . 

8  oz. 

Sulphur,     . 

3  « 

Charcoal, 

i" 

Antimony, 

1  " 

If  the  Demon  of  Mischief  holds  his  midnight  orgies, 
surrounded  by  his  attendant  imps,  in  solemn  conclave  to 
strike  terror  into  the  bosom  of  the  fair  maiden  whose  des- 
tiny is  under  the  supervision  of  the  good  fairy,  provide 
them  with  an  illumination  composed  of 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  155 

GREEK   FIRE. 

Nitrate  of  Barytes,    .          .  62|-  parts 

Sulphur,       ....  10|-     " 

Potash,    ....  23i     " 

Orpiment,    .  .  .  .  1|^     " 

Charcoal,  ...  li     " 

When  used,  the  fire  is  spread  along  the  bottom  of  the 
fire  box,  composed  of  sheet  iron,  and  ignited  at  one  end. 
It  is  raised  six  or  seven  feet  high  at  the  sides,  by  which 
means  a  brilliant  light  is  thrown  upon  every  object  within 
its  reach.  Immediately  after  use  the  pan  should  be  placed 
in  the  open  air  or  a  bucket  of  water,  to  get  rid  of  the 
smell,  which  is  far  from  pleasant  if  extensively  inhaled. 

The  piercing  cold  of  the  icy  regions  form  frequently  a 
very  important  portion  of  the  drama.  The  scenic  artist 
depicts  upon  the  canvas  the  glacial  grandeur  of  a  lati- 
tude of  perpetual  winter  with  as  much  fidelity  as  he 
traces  the  lurid  intensity  of  the  torrid  zone ;  but  even 
here,  the  property  man  must  render  his  assistance  to  com- 
plete the  picture. 

The  flakes  of  falling  snow  svhich,  when  properly  man- 
aged, so  admirably  decoy  the  spectator  into  a  feeling  of 
reality,  are  the  result  of  a  large  quantity  of  cut  white  pa- 
pers placed  in  a  box  elevated  several  feet  above  the  bor- 
ders over  the  stage.  This  box  is  about  four  feet  long,  and 
three  feet  broad  ;  it  is  sustained  by  two  ropes — one  from 
either  side,  left  tolerably  loose.  On  one  side  is  a  pole  at- 
tached, whereby  the  property  man,  or  his  assistant,  has  a 
perfect  command  over  the  box,  and  by  keeping  it  in  mo- 
tion is  enabled  to  shake  the  paper  through  the  bottom, 
which  is  only  protected  by  wire  placed  in  such  a  position, 
that  it  is  easily  scattered  in  such  a  way  as  to  strew  the 
stage  with  the  counterfeit  snow.  This  is  called  the  "Snow 
Box." 


156  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

By  the  side  ot  the  stage,  and  not  far  from  the  promp- 
ter's box,  is  a  light  burning  in  a  small  nook,  or  cupboard  ; 
we  enter  and  find  there  the  property  man  in  a  canvas  apron 
and  drab  felt  hat.  He  is  busily  employed  rej^airing  a  trun- 
cheon by  covering  the  fractures  with  gilt  paper  :  and  while 
he  is  thus  engaged  we  will  take  a  survey  of  the  place  set 
apart  for  his  use.  Although  dignified  by  the  appellation  of 
property  room,  its  disproportioned  aspect  would  fully  jus- 
tify the  conclusion  that  the  stranger  might  arrive  at,  by 
more  fitly  designating  it  as  a  cupboard,  in  which  its  proprie- 
tor stored  curiosities  of  the  past  and  present  ages.  The 
most  noticeable  of  the  articles  contained  in  this  labora- 
tory are,  one  dozen  combat  swords,  used  generally  for 
actions  on  board  ship,  a  stack  of  muskets  for  the  soldiery, 
two  or  three  ash  cudgels  with  cords  fistened  on  one  end 
only,  (these  are  so  fashioned  for  the  seciu'e  binding  of  re- 
fractory rufiians,  or  for  the  simple  hearted  peasant,  who 
most  obdurately  refuses  to  divulge  his  family  secrets,) 
a  few  purses,  of  various  colors,  containing  tokens  to  repre- 
sent money,  so  lavishly  bestowed  by  nabobs  and  others  of 
unlimited  wealth. 

In  one  corner  of  the  second  shelf  is  scattered  loosely  a 
quantity  of  artificial  flowers;  a  drum  hangs  from  the  roof 
with  the  sticks  belonging  to  it  protruding  from  its  sides. 
A  guitar  with  two  strings  wanting,  a  set  of  cruets,  a  pile 
of  horn  drinking  cups,  two  brown  pitchers,  a  few  common 
cups  and  saucers,  a  riding-whip,  and  a  ratan.  On  the 
upper  shelf  we  perceive  baskets  of  fruits  of  curious  de- 
vices, with  goblets  to  correspond,  such  as  are  required  to 
assist  at  the  festivities  of  the  heir  to  his  baronial  estates; 
four  pieces  of  sheet  iron,  formed  like  a  trough  with  a 
handle  in  the  centre,  for  the  burning  of  colored  fires,  as 
already  described.  A  caldron,  and  tripod  for  gipsy  rev- 
elry, occupies  an  obscure  corner,  while  one  of  the  draw- 
ers contains  a  pack  of  cards,  two  sets  of  dice,  and  boxes. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


157 


The  Property  Room. 


158 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


a  pipe,  a  bunch  of  skeleton  keys,  a  do.  of  full-bodied  ones, 
a  clasp  knife,  two  daggers,  a  piece  of  chalk,  a  tape  meas- 
ure, and  two  or  three  ends  of  tallow  candle.  The  other 
is  a  receptacle  for  two  table  covers,  a  few  sheets  of  writing 
paper,  a  screw-driver,  and  a  pair  of  scissors. 

In  a  nook,  almost  obscured  from  view  by  two  disguis- 
ing cloaks,  hang  three  pair  of  convict  fetters,  in  close 
company  with  a  bundle  of  stuffed  sticks,  such  as  are  in- 
dispensably necessary  to  exhibit  the  hilariousness  of  the 
Hibernian  character,  according  to  the  infallible  dicta  of 
the  modern  di*amatist. 

The  above  is  the  spot  where  small  articles  in  constant 
use  are  stored.  In  another  pai't  of  the  building  we  will 
presently  inspect  the  workshop,  where  the  property  man 
manufactures  the  several  things  he  requires,  leaving  the 
distribution  of  them  upon  the  stage  to  his  assistant,  who 
presides  over  the  place  we  have  just  quitted. 

We  cannot  possibly  avoid  observing,  as  we  retire  from 
our  late  enquiry,  that  we  have  passed  the  box  where  the 
prompter  at  the  evening's  performance  stations  himself 
with  book  and  desk,  his  finger  on  the  passage  as  it  is 
spoken,  and  his  eye  upon  the  speaker.  An  office  of 
great  trust  is  that  of  prompter.  He  should  have  a  toler- 
able good  education  ;  and  be  somewhat  skilled  in  herald- 
ry, in  order  to  check  any  inaccuracy  the  property  man 
may  commit,  in  placing  banners  and  furniture  upon  the 
stage  unsuited  to  the  country,  or  period. 


Gas  Dial. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


159 


"What  a  myriad  of  bells,  and  tubes  he  seems  to  have  at 
his  command.  Can  he  need  them  all  ?  Oh,  yes,  without 
these,  the  machinery  of  the  department  could  not  be  con- 
ducted. No  action  of  any  kind  can  take  place  until  he 
gives  the  signal.  Near  his  right  hand  is  a  dial  plate  with 
keys  regulated  by  stops  that  can  govern  the  gas  to  the 
minutest  nicety  in  every  part  of  the  house.  The  bells 
and  tubes  communicate  in  a  similar  manner.  These  are 
in  a  row  in  front  of  him,  and  are  marked  thus,  Orches- 
tra, Traps,  Flies,  Drop,  Curtain.  The  trap  bell  conveys 
the  information  to  carpenters  under  the  stage  that  an  as- 
cent, or  descent  is  to  be  made.  The  first  ring  is  called 
the  warning,  the  second  to  work  the  trap,  which  is  done 


Tlie  Trap  Open. 

by  a  windlass  manned  by  the  carpenters,  if  it  be  an  ascent, 
if  a  descent,  an  artificial  trap  is  placed  under  the  aperture 
made  in  the  stage,  and  the  object  to  disappear  sinks  by 
means  of  a  counterweight,  the  carpenters  instantly  closing 


160 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


up  the  ti'ap  with  the  original  piece,  which  slides  into  its 
place  and  is  secured. 


The  Trap  Closed. 

The  bell  for  the  drop  is  used  only  at  the  end  of 
an  act  of  a  play,  the  one  for  the  curtain  at  the  end  of  the 
play  itself     The  bell  terminating  in  the  flies,  where  the 

curtain  is  worked 
responds  in  like 
manner  to  the  du- 
ties required  of  it ; 
and  thus  the  or- 
der and  regularity, 
where  the  promp- 
ter is  thoroughly 
an  adept  at  his  art, 
which  we  see  only 
in  well  conducted 

—  theatres. 
The  Curtain  Windlass. 


rOOTLIGnX    FLASHES. 


IGl 


Before  we  shift  our  quarters,  let  us  explain  that  the  cir- 
cular box  with  a  cord  attached  in  two  places  and  elevated 
above  the  head  of  the  promj)- 
ter,  is  the  "  rain  box." 

It  has  a  goodly  quantity  of 
]»eas  inside  :  its  position  being 
shifted  by  the  ropes,  the  peas 
rattle  towards  the  bottom, 
meeting  in  their  course  with 
small  wooden  pegs,  against 
which  they  clatter,  and  give 
the  best,  and  most  perfect  imi- 
tation of  rain  that  can  be  well 
imagined. 

One  of  the  two  other  ropes  yon  see,  works  the  large 
cathedral  bell ;  and  the  other,  a  contrivance  for  the  re- 
presentation of  thunder,  similar  to  the  "  rain  box,"  except 


The  Rain  JB^x. 


Tfie  Thunder  Drum. 

that  the  box  is  long,  instead  of  being  round,  is  minus  the 
pegs,  and  placed  with  a  cannon  ball  inside,  as  near  the 
]-oof  of  the  building  as  possible. 

Some  theatres  still  use  a  sheet  of  thin  iron,  hung  where 
the  prompter  can  conveniently  shake  it ;  but  it  has  a  me- 
tallic reverberation,  not  to  be  compared  in  effectiveness  to 


162  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

the  plan  above  clescribed.  If  we  add  a  knocker  to  the 
fixtures  belonging  to  the  promiHer,  we  have  noted  all  his 
professional  paraphernalia. 

In  some  secure  nook  not  very  distant  from  the  stao-e  is 
the  office  of  the  m.anager.  A  small,  cheerful,  cozy  place 
it  is,  with  an  easy  chair  near  the  fire,  and  in  one  corner 
two  or  three  pieces  of  expensive  statuary,  that  have  been 
borrowed  for  the  play  at  present  before  the  public,  and 
placed  there  for  safety  in  the  day  time,  when  not  in  use. 

On  the  table  are  some  open  letters,  from  writers  burn- 
ing with  a  desire  to  elevate  the  dignity  of  dramatic 
art. 

One  has  just  completed,  "  a  play  in  seven  acts,  upon  an 
entirely  new,  and  original  model,  which  he  desires  at  the 
very  earliest  opportunity  to  read  for  approval.  The 
work  had  already  received  the  very  highest  encomiums 
from  distinguished  private  friends  of  taste  and  discrimi- 
nation, and  he,  the  author,  cherishes  a  hope  that  the  day 
is  not  far  distant  when  the  high  and  classic  drama  may 
break  the  bonds  of  modern  innovation,  and  bursting  with 
new-born  greatness  upon  the  millenium  of  ancient  versifi- 
cation, stand  colossal-like,  at  the  very  portals  of  our  pri- 
vate homes." 

Another,  is  from  a  lady  "  Who  had,  at  the  earnest  re- 
quest of  several  friends,  consented  at  this  festive  season 
of  the  year  to  join  them  in  some  dramatic  representations 
of  a  strictly  private  nature ;  but  whose  intuitive  ease 
and  talent  so  astounded  the  company,  that  it  was  imme- 
diately voted  by  every  one  present,  that  to  longer  remain 
within  the  seclusion  of  private  life  would  be  an  act  of 
positive  insanity  on  her  part,  as  well  as  gross  injustice  to 
the  public  in  general." 

There  is  also  one,  written  with  a  troubled  spirit,  and  a 
trembling  hand ;  how  differently  couched.  She  who 
traced  those  lines  was  once  the  idol  of  the  public,  and  in 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  163 

the  erijoyinent  of  position,  and  esteemed  second  to  none. 
In  the  hey-day  of  her  professional  career,  she  looked  with 
an  eye  of  indifference  on  the  members  of  her  own  pro- 
fession who  sought  her  hand.  She  bestowed  it  iipon  one 
she  believed,  from  his  social  distinction  and  private  means? 
competent  to  guard  her  through  the  world,  in  happiness 
and  comfort.  Like  many  others,  she  has  long  since 
awakened  to  the  painful  reality  that  she  has  united  her 
fate  with  one  who  has  no  sympathy  with  her  avocation, 
no  sorrow  for  her  sufferings.  At  all  times  greedily  anx- 
ious for  the  emolument  obtained  from  his  wife's  exertions, 
he  despises  the  source  from  whence  it  is  derived ;  and 
readily  construes  the  slightest  acts  of  kindness  tendered 
by  her  professional  brethren,  as  a  violation  of  his  mari- 
tal rights  ! 

The  money  she  acquired  when  the  bloom  of  youth  and 
beauty  mantled  upon  her  cheek,  has  long  since  been 
squandered  upon  profitless  speculation,  or  spent  for  the 
support  of  a  rapidly  increasing  family,  and  she  is  now 
driven  to  the  extremity  of  soliciting  an  appointment '  in 
the  theatre  at  any  terms,  to  avert  the  dangers  of  actual 
poverty. 

This  is  no  overcharged  picture.  The  pallid  cheek,  the 
sunken,  blood-shotten  eye,  reveal  a  fearful  tale  of  profes- 
sional hope  blighted  by  uncongenial  marriages. 

Turn  we  now  to  the  room  we  are  examining,  and  we 
shall  find  it,  if  not  very  elegant,  at  least  to  contain  a  mod- 
erate proportion  of  comfort.  A  few  pictures  of  the  ac- 
tors of  a  past  age,  with  others  at  present  in  the  meridian 
of  their  popularity,  adorn  the  walls  ;  while  over  the  chim- 
ney piece,  occupying  the  post  of  honor,  hangs  the  like- 
ness of  the  mellifluous  bard,  wlio  has,  witli  his  magic  pen, 
elevated  dramatic  poetry  to  the  highest  apex  of  human 
greatness.  The  piles  of  two  or  three  past  seasons'  bills 
hang  convenieatly  for  reference ;  one  or  two  manuscripts 


164  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

and  the  last  printed  copy  from  the  London  dramatic  pub- 
lisher, complete  the  list  of  items  worthy  of  notice. 

As  we  quit  the  apartment,  the  scenic  artist  passes,  and 
confers  upon  us  the  compliments  of  the  morning.  Let 
us  follow  the  bent  of  our  enquiry,  and  ascend  to  the  sanc- 
tum of  the  gentleman  who  has  just  mounted  towards 
the  roof,  and  whose  footsteps  are  still  distinctly  heard  in 
the  distance. 

You  ai-e  suffering  with  another  temporary  attack  of 
blindness,  therefore  have  a  care  how  you  feel  your  way 
up  the  tortuous  flight  of  stairs  at  the  very  back  of  the 
stage  ;  and  where  you  cannot  resist  thinking,  if  fortune 
had  favored  you  with  architectural  ability,  it  is  the  last 
spot  you  would  select  to  build  such  a  structure.  After 
smashing  your  hat  twice,  and  grazing  your  shins  the  same 
number  of  times,  you  reach  the  flies  where,  at  the  very 
back  of  the  building,  you  find 

THE    PAINT   ROOM. 

The  presiding  spirit  of  the  region  has  denuded  himself 
of  some  of  his  wearing  apparel,  and  now  appears  in  a  suit 
of  canvas,  tastefully  sprinkled  with  spots  of  paint  of  every 
possible  tint,  the  which  give  him  somewhat  the  semblance 
of  a  human  leopard.  He  has  however,  no  affinity  in  dis- 
position with  the  beast  he  in  some  measure  resembles, 
being  docile,  and  tractable  to  a  singular  degree.  He  is  a 
great  lover  of  his  art,  and  enjoys  a  conference  with  any 
who  will  talk  with  him,  on  the  choice  pictures  in  the  sea- 
son's exhibition,  those  the  visitor  has  seen  in  the  Louvre 
of  Paris,  or  the  National  Gallery  in  London,  and  prom- 
inent works  in  collections  nearer  home. 

His  boy  is  busily  engaged  grinding  colors,  while  the 
artist  himself  is  selecting  from  various  brown  pots,  the 
different  ones  already  fit  for  use,  for  a  scene  now  upon 
the  frame,  and  wanting  only  the  last  few  finishing  touches. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


165 


Paint  Room. 


166  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

The  frame  is  the  machine  tipon  which  the  rough  canvas 
is  placed  by  the  carpenters  below,  when  it  is  first  made  by 
them,  and  raised  by  means  of  a  windlass  to  its  pi-esent 
position,  where  it  will  remain  till  fit  for  the  jDublic  gaze, 
when  it  will  be  lowered  by  the  similar  means  that  raised 
it.  This  department  is  very  well  lighted  by  day  from 
windows  at  the  back  of  the  building.  At  night  it  has 
two  rows  of  gas-burners  down  the  centre,  with  a  reflector 
to  throw  the  light  ujjon  the  canvas. 

See  how  rapidly  the  artist  disposes  of  the  colors ;  you 
are  astonished,  and  wonder  how  such  apparently  careless 
work  can  produce  a  pleasing  result,  when  viewed  from 
the  auditorium. 

A  cupboard  with  the  door  open  reveals  to  us  all  this 
place  contains.  There  we  find  a  few  rough  sketches  in 
charcoal,  principally  of  gothic  arches  and  pediments ;  a 
model  in  card-board  of  the  last  scene  in  a  fairy  extrava- 
ganza; some  paint  brushes,  a  meershaum  pipe,  a  pair  of 
overalls,  a  few  numbers  of  a  work  treating  on  the  art  of 
painting,  and  an  illustrated  newspaper  of  a  recent  date. 
These,  with  a  stone,  a  keg  of  size,  and  some  fancy  sketches 
of  several  members  of  the  company,  their  weak  points 
most  liberally  rendered  by  the  artist,  form  the  chief  fea- 
tures of  a  place  very  rarely  intruded  upon  by  outsiders, 
whose  curiosity  is  generally  confined  to  the  stage  alone. 

In  beating  a  retreat  from  this  locality,  your  danger  is 
perhaps  a  little  more  imminent  than  you  imagine.  Hold 
on  tight  to  the  not  very  secure  banister,  or  you  will  be 
precipitated  forward  Avith  such  velocity  as  will  fix  the 
circumstance  upon  your  memory  for  some  time  to  come. 
If  you  achieve  the  first  landing  in  safety  you  will  find 
yourself  in  close  proximity  with  the  room  where  the 

PROPEETT  MAN 

fashions  every  conceivable  article,  from  a  walking  cane  to 
an  elephant. 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  167 

If  republics  be  notoriously  ungrateful,  as  the  world  in- 
sists they  are,  shall  the  subject  of  our  sketch  dare  to  wail 
over  his  neglected  condition,  when  the  play-going  public, 
despite  the  information  it  constantly  receives  from  those 
models  of  veracity  —  the  play-bills  — seldom  or  ever  cast  a 
thought  upon  the  individual,  who,  in  the  "boudoir  of  my 
lady,  the  countess,"  has  fashioned  the  furniture  of  ex- 
quisite workmanshij),  or  illumined  the  fairy  in  tights  as 
she  ascends  gracefully  through  a  dazzling  vista  to  tortu- 
ous clouds  in  the  realms  of  bliss. 

A  good,  and  efficient /)ro/9er;y  man  is  an  indisjDensable 
adjunct  to  a  well  regulated  theatre.  One  of  this  kind  is 
preparing  to  mix  the  ingredients  for  a  counterfeit  erup- 
tion of  Vesuvius,  as  we  enter.  He  has  received  instruc- 
tions from  the  manager  to  be  preparing  the  necessary 
stuff  for  a  great  sensational  spectacle  for  the  holidays. 
'Ihe  Goblin  Father  is  to  eclipse  all  former  efforts  in  the 
splendor  of  its  production.  Before  him  is  a  fanciful  pro- 
trait  of  his  Satanic  majesty,  taken  at  a  time  when  his  diges- 
tion was  not  in  a  very  satisfactory  condition,  if  we  are  to 
judge  by  his  ficial  uneasiness,  but  to  which  he  must  oc- 
casionally refer  while  fashioning  a  truthful  resemblance 
of  that  gentleman  in  clay,  prior  to  completing  his  medalion 
in  papier  mache.  Near  the  stove,  and  supported  by  a 
barrel  of  plaster  of  Paris,  are  the  heads  of  the  dreadful 
monarch's  body-guard,  a  dozen  in  number,  who  have  just 
received  their  final  layer  of  coloi*,  and  whose  visages 
stand  out  from  their  white  surroundings  with  the  rubicund 
intensity  of  a  practised  glutton  after  a  hearty  meal ;  and 
as  the  crackling  wood  illumines  their  faces,  would,  if  they 
were  endowed  with  the  power  of  speech,  roar  out, 

"  Ha  !  Ha  !  Go  it,  old  boy  !  Blaze  away,  we're  used  to 
it.     You  can't  roast  us." 

Around  the  walls  hang  implements  of  warfare,  from 
the  combat  sword  of  the  valiant  sailor,  to  the  cimeter 


1G8  FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES. 

of  the  ferocious  Turk.  Stacked  in  one  corner,  leans  the 
armory  of  the  establishment,  while  under  the  window 
stands  the  buck-basket  for  FalstafF  in  the  "  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,"  if  not  in  that  state  of  profuse  per- 
spiration described  by  that  ton  of  humor,  at  least  over- 
crowded with  every  conceivable  article  for  stage  use. 

A  hazardous  experiment  is  this  property  room  to  pere- 
grinate in  ;  a  large  bench,  such  as  is  used  by  carpenters, 
occupies  the  center  of  the  apartment ;  move  a  little  to  the 
right,  and  you  upset  a  large  glue-pot  ;  turn  to  the  left, 
and  your  head  is  certain  to  come  in  contact  with  a  tem- 
porary shelf  supported  only  by  small  cords,  the  contents 
of  which  will  immediately  shower  down,  crowning  you 
most  unceremoniously  with  a  helmet  of  the  mediaeval 
ages  ;  avoiding  that,  you  are  face-to-face  with  the  habili- 
ments in  which  the  parent  of  the  Prince  of  Denmark 
takes  his  nightly  stroll. 

You  are  thus  placed  in  a  similar  predicament  to  the 
inhabitant  of  a  rural  district  who,  after  several  futile  at- 
tempts to  thread  the  mazes  of  Broadway  without  acci- 
dent, finally  gave  up  the  design  in  despair,  and  consigned 
himself  to  his  fate.  Respectable  elderly  females,  to 
whom  railway  guides  are  a  profound  mystery,  would  find 
here  sharp  practice  for  their  ingenuity,  if  they  attempted 
to  divine  the  purposes  for  which  the  heterogeneous  mass 
of  articles  within  this  sanctum  are  intended  ;  a  marine 
or  junk  dealer's,  is  a  well  ordered  collection  when  com- 
pared with  it. 

Pending  the  production  of  a  gorgeous  spectacle,  our 
hero  will  often  take  his  moals  in  this  dramatic  laboratory, 
(when  he  can  find  leisure  to  eat  it,)  the  same  being  con- 
veyed to  him  by  his  daughter,  a  buxom  girl  of  some  six- 
teen summers,  and  who  has  probably  commenced  her 
professional  novitiate  in  the  repi-esentation  of  pages,  or 
attendants  on  the  aristocracy  of  the  classic  drama. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  169 

He  may  be  seen  occasionally  on  the  stage  during  re- 
hearsal, when  specially  summoned  by  the  manager,  the 
call  boy  being  dispatched  to  request  his  attendance  for  a 
moment.  After  receiving  some  instruction  in  relation  to 
the  forth-coming  novelty,  he  will,  in  his  slippered  feet, 
glide  away  to  his  work-shop,  conferring  the  compliments 
of  the  morning,  and  leaving  behind  him  a  strong  flavor 
of  glue,  with  a  plentiful  show  of  Dutch  metal,  particles 
of  which  brilliant  decorative  substance,  stand  boldly  out 
in  meteoric  splendor  upon  his  whiskers,  as  be  disappears. 

"We  descend  to  the  back  of  the  stage,  and  for  the  first 
time  observe  another  queerly  constructed  place.  By  the 
dim  light  we  perceive  we  are  in  the  carpenter's  room. 
It  is  ixfac  simile  of  the  small  room  above,  and  boasts  lit- 
tle, or  nothing  of  interest.  There  are  two  shelves,  upon 
which  are  scattered  tools  of  every  kind,  from  the  gimlet 
to  the  centre-bit.  Small  brown  paper  parcels  with  light 
green  labels  lay  about  in  various  directions  ;  some  of 
these  are  empty,  while  from  the  rest,  nails  and  screws  of 
various  sizes  protrude.  A  two  foot  rule,  and  one  or  two  ar- 
ticles of  wearing  apparel  complete  the  display,  and  we 
again  encounter  the  call  hoy.,  who  is  preparing  for  the  re- 
hearsal. As  a  general  principle,  this  youth  entertains 
not  the  slightest  concern  at  your  professional  discomfit- 
ure if  pressed  for  time  to  acquire  the  words  of  a  part, 
but  will,  with  an  intense  degree  of  gratification,  shout  at 
you  while  you  are  reading  over  your  next  scene,  that 
you  are  waited  for. 

Only  keep  your  eye  upon  him  in  the  evening  when 
Mr.  Battledore,  the  eccentric  comedian,  gets  into  the  most 
interesting  portion  of  his  pet  story  about  a  pic-nic  ;  where 
a  bear,  or  a  bufialo,  he  seems  hardly  to  know  which,  came 
down  upon  the  company  in  the  midst  of  their  repast,  and 
after  poking  its  nose  into  everything,  finished  by  gob- 


170  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

bling  up  a  giblet  pie,  and  a  young  lady's  straw  hat  with 
green  ribbons.  Observe  the  delight  he  takes  in  cutting 
short  tlie  story  with  a  suggestion  that  "the  stnge  has 
been  waiting  nearly  five  minutes,  and  he  dont  think  the 
audience  care  much  for  a  longer  delay." 

When  what  is  termed  a  "stage  wait"  occurs,  it  arises 
from  one  or  two  causes,  viz.,  either  the  boy  has  forgotten 
to  make  the  call,  or  the  party  called  has  neglected  to  res- 
pond to  it. 

Every  frequenter  of  a  theatre  must  have  observed  an 
occasional  mishap  of  this  kind  when,  after  a  tedious  de- 
lay, the  delinquent,  in  his  eager  haste  to  reach  the  scene, 
will  appear  from  the  opposite  direction  his  presence  was 
expected. 

It  was  just  past  eleven,  and  the  company  are  arriving^ 
those  having. the  least  to  do  being  generally  in  the  rear 
of  the  principals.  Ten  minutes'  grace  is  allowed  for 
the  first  call,  (not  for  any  other)  and  punctually  at  the 
end  of  that  time  the  prompter  directs  the  boy  to  "  call 
one,"  and  the  rehearsal  commences. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  stage  manager  to  be  present  dur- 
ing this  time,  to  assist  by  his  experience  the  more  natural 
method  of  overcoming  any  difiiculties  that  may  present 
themselves.  With  established  actors,  whose  position  in  the 
public  esteem  rank  them  as  adepts  in  their  art,  the  busi- 
ness they  may  feel  disposed  to  adopt  is  generally  acced- 
ed to  by  the  above  named  official. 

It  is  most  difficult  to  appear  graceful  upon  the  stage* 
without  a  large  amount  of  practice.  The  gentlemen  who 
play  the  small  parts  are  called  back  several  times,  and 
impressed  with  the  necessity  of  speaking  more  distinctly, 
and  infusing  more  grace  into  their  actions. 

The  play  in  rehearsal  embraces  characters  for  the  fol- 
lowing performances,  viz. 

"Leading  Man.  "  "Light  Comedian. "  "First  Old  Man." 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  171 

«  Second  Old  Man."  "Walking  Gentleman."  "Heavy 
Man."  "Utility  Man."  "Leading  Lady."  "First  Walk- 
ing Lady."  "  First  Old  Woman."  "  Singing  Chamber- 
maid." 

The  above  are  the  technical  appellations  by  which  the 
members  of  the  profession  understand  the  several  desi"-- 
nations  of  the  characters  they  are  called  upon  to  enact. 

The  duties  of  each  are  as  follows : 

The  Leading  Man^  is  the  personifier  of  the  principal 
characters  in  tragedy,  as  well  as  some  of  the  more  seri- 
ous ones  in  comedy ;  as, Mr.  Oakley,  in  the  "Jealous  Wife," 
Lord  Townley  in  the  "  Provoked  Husband,"  etc. 

The  Light  Comedian^  is  the  representative  of  the  fine 
gentleman  of  the  old  school,  as  Charles  Surface,  in  the 
'•  School  for  Scandal,"  and  others  of  a  more  modern  date, 
who  stand  prominently  forward  in  the  play. 

The  First  Old  3Ian,  clearly  defines  itself  They  are  such 
parts  as  aged  characters  where  they  assume  a  similar 
significance  with  the  principals  of  other  lines  of  business  ; 
if  not,  they  are  only  second  old  men. 

The  Walking  Gentleman^  is  he  who  enacts  all  the 
young  men  in  all  sorts  of  pieces, —  youths  for  whom  the 
young  ladies  of  the  drama  have  a  preference,  despite 
the  opposition  of  their  parents. 

The  Utility  Man^  must  appear  in  any  thing  for  which 
he  is  cast,  the  stage  manager  being  the  judge  of  his  fit- 
ness for  the  positions  in  which  to  place  him. 

The  Leading  Lady,  plays  all  the  prominent  charac- 
ters of  the  drama  of  the  serious  kind.  Such  is  however  the 
power  of  their  influence  in  a  theatre,  that  they  not  unfre- 
quently  absorb  many  of  the  comic  parts  likewise. 

The  First  Walking  Lady,  is  she  who  must  play  the 
parts  in  both  tragedy  and  comedy  that  are  not  claimed 
by  the  leading,  and  the  second  lady,  and  has  also  charge 
of  some  very  prominent  ones  in  farces. 


172  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES, 

First  Old  Woman  takes  the  same  relation  in  the  al- 
lotment of  parts  as  the  first  old  man. 

The  Singing  Chambermaid  is  not  necessarily  obliged 
to  enact  chambermaids  only,  but  appears  in  all  the  Sou- 
hrettes^  and  is  called  singing  chambermaid,  to  specify  her 
musical  capability,  and  in  distinction  to  those  who  are 
not  in  possession  of  that  accomplishment. 

People  who  mix  in  society  can  veiy  easily  observe  the 
variable  and  totally  opposite  phases  of  character  frequent- 
ly to  be  met  with  in  members  of  the  same  family.  The 
theatre  is  no  exception  to  this  rule.  You  have  indeed  a 
better  opportunity  of  judging  of  the  peculiarities  of  the 
members  of  the  sock  and  buskin  than  that  of  any  other 
pursuit.  They  are  thrown  so  much  in  each  other's  society 
that  there  is  necessarily  an  absence  of  some  of  the  re- 
straint Avhich  is  not  observable  in  many  other  professions, 
or  callings. 

Here  is  a  most  highly  respectable  gentleman.  He  takes 
charge  of  some  of  the  old  men.  He  is  an  excellent  hus- 
band and  father,  and  his  manner  is  bland  and  afilible. 
He  will  recount  to  you  how,  when  attached  to  the  naval 
service  of  his  country  he,  in  spite  of  orders  from  the 
commanding  ofiicer,  intercepted  the  approach  of  the  ene- 
my's long  boat,  whereby  (having  succeeded)  he  was  re- 
warded with  a  pair  of  epaulettes,  and  the  favorable  men- 
tion of  his  name  and  exploits  at  the  war  department. 
He  will  delight  to  repeat  the  conversation  he  had  on  the 
subject,  many  years  after  the  date  of  the  transaction, 
while  on  board  a  steamer  on  the  Mississippi  river,  with 
General  Scott,  and  how  that  great  man  and  good"  sol- 
dier had  assured  him  that  "  never,  throughout  the  whole 
of  his  military  career,  had  he  met  with  a  man  whose 
courage  he  more  admired  as  an  officer,  or  whose  convi- 
vial accomplishments  as  an  individual,  had  left  so  deep  an 
impression  upon  him." 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  173 

Some  people  are  addicted  to  hallucinations,  and  our 
fiiend  has  one  which  subjects  him  to  much  badinage,  and 
some  little  abuse,  from  a  few  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
pany. 

For  years  it  has  been  his  practice  to  purchase  a  certain 
number  of  lottery  tickets  every  month  ;  and  although  he 
has  never  yet  been  fortunate  enough  to  hit  upon  the  lucky 
numbers,  he  still  clings  to  the  idea  that  the  day  will  come 
that  shall  see  him  rewarded  for  all  his  anxiety  and  disap- 
pointment. 

"Such    has   been   my   conduct   through  life,"  he  will 
■  often  say,  "  that  I  am  certain,  despite  the  many  reverses 
to    which    I   have    been   for   years  subjected,  my  lucky 
star  will  one  day  be  in  the  ascendant." 

Long  after  the  last  auditor  has  departed,  and  the  tramp 
of  the  night  watchman  reverberates  throughout  the  build- 
ing, in  the  deep  solitude  of  sleep  will  he  behold  visions 
of  lucky  numbers  flitting  before  his  expectant  gaze.  Se- 
cretly will  he  register  in  his  mind  the  numerical  treasure ; 
stealthily  will  he  effect  the  purchase  that  is  to  repay  him 
for  all  previous  suffering  !  anxiously  does  he  await  the  re- 
sult, to  be  again  deceived. 

The  Heavy  Man,  has  just  undisguisedly  expressed  it 
as  his  candid  opinion,  that  his  old  friend  must  be  cracked. 
No  man  in  his  senses  would  ever  run  the  extreme  risks 
he  did,  if  he  was  not  in  that  unfortunate  condition. 

"  Why,  sir,"  he  says,  turning  to  the  second  walking 
gentleman, 

"  It's  not  above  a  month  since  I  was  ass  enough  to 
join  him  in  a  walk  after  rehearsal !  I  never  was  so 
ashamed  in  all  my  life.     What  do  you  think  he  did  ?  " 

"  Can't  guess,"  rejoins  the  party  addressed, 

"  Guess,  no  !  I  should  think  not.  I'll  be  shot  if  he 
didn't  take  a  fancy  to  the  number  on  a  policeman's  cap, 
and   followed   him  two  blocks,  with  pencil  in  hand,  in 


174  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

order  to  obtain  it.  The  guardian  of  the  peace  very  nat- 
urally felt  indignant,  and  demanded  to  know  what  he  had 
done  to  have  a  memorandum  made  of  his  number !  Of 
course  he  couldn't  explain  that  it  was  only  his  lottery  lu- 
nacy, and  the  issue  was  that  we  were  passed  through 
three  or  four  beats  by  these  blue  coated  gentlemen,  and 
dogged  everywhere  for  the  balance  of  the  morning." 

The  call  boy  chimes  in  at  the  end  of  this  anecdote,  that 

the  manager  would  like  to  see  Mr, ,  the  Heavy  Man, 

presently,  in  his  office. 

Heavy  Man  refreshes  himself  with  a  coitions  pinch  of 
snuff,  and  obeys  the  summons. 

"  Come  in,"  says  the  manager,  in  his  blandest  tones,  as 
the  Heavy  Man  knocks  at  the  door  with  the  head  of  his 
cane ;  accepting  the  invitation,  they  are  speedily  face  to 
face. 

«  Take  a  seat,  Mr. " 

"  Heavy  man  bows,  and  does  so." 

"  Excuse  me  for  one  or  two  moments,  will  you,  if  you 
please  ?  "  Affecting  to  have  the  weight  of  empires  on  his 
head. 

Heavy  Man  bows  again,  says  "certainly"  and  fixing  his 
eyes  on  the  portrait  of  Shakspeare,  thinks  if  he  had  the 
assistance  of  the  wig  and  beard,  he  should  very  much  re- 
semble the  bard  ;  and  it  would  not  be  a  bad  idea  to  con- 
coct a  piece  for  that  purpose  for  his  next  benefit. 

Stage  manager  has  pretended  to  write  a  letter,  dur- 
ing this  brief  interval,  and  is  now  prepared  for  the  at- 
tack. 

"  Oh  !   by  the  way,  Mr. ,  here  is  a  manuscript  I 

wish  you  would  be  good  enough  to  look  over.  There 
are  two  heavy  parts  in  it,  one  of  them  very  troublesome 
and  of  an  unusual  length.  The  author  Avas  here  this  morn- 
ing, and  seems  determined  to  drag  me  into  the  play.  I 
have   quite   enough   to  think   of,  I'm  sure,  without   the 


FOOTLIGIIT    FLASHES.  175 

trouble  of  studying  long  parts,  but  this  gentleman  has  a 
very  large  and  wealthy  connection.  His  name  stands 
well  in  the  best  literary  circles,  and  he  can  influence  the 
houses  greatly.  I  thought  that  —  seeing  the  position  in 
which  I  am  placed,  you  would  perhaps  not  object  to  look 
over  the  other  part.  You  will  find  it  short,  and  pleasant, 
and  I  am  sure  you  can  make  it  one  of  the  chief  features 
of  the  pieces." 

Heavy  man,  not  being  well  able  to  resist  the  compli- 
ment, and  further,  not  having  the  same  rapid  facility  for 
study  he  formerly  possessed,  consents  at  once,  "  Says  he 

doesen't  care,  if  Mr. ,  the  stage   manager,  thinks   it 

advantageous  to  the  strength  of  the  representations,  ho 
would  be  the  last  man  to  contend  against  a  result  so  de- 
sirable." 

The  manager  thanks  him,  offers  him  the  privilege  of 
an  order  for  two  friends  for  that  evening,  with  a  strict  in- 
junction not  to  mention  the  presentation  to  any  of  the 
company,  wishes  him  good  morning,  and  as  the  door  con- 
cealed him  from  view,  inwardly  congratulates  himself 
upon  his  tact  and  diplomacy,  and  appropriates  the  heavy 
man's  part  to  himself. 

All  the  ladies  of  the  Ballet  are  about  to  assemble,  and 
some  of  them  have  already  arrived.  There  are  two  so 
much  alike,  that  they  must  be  sisters.  One  is  aged  seven- 
teen, and  the  other  fifteen.  They  are  fatherless,  and  are 
the  chief  support  of  their  mother  and  a  younger  brother, 
who  is  a  helpless  cripple.  Their  history  is  somewhat 
sad.  Their  father  commenced  his  career  with  good  busi- 
ness prospects ;  but  false  friends,  competition  of  a  for- 
eign market,  with  the  combination  of  events  that  invari- 
ably press  upon  the  needy,  overwhelmed  him  ;  till  at 
length  that  universal  panacea  for  all  ills,  death,  came  to 
the  rescue,  and  bore  his  troubled  spirit  where  it  could 


176  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

enjoy  that  tranquility  it  had  long  been  a  stranger  to. 
Left  without  the  means  of  support,  the  little  knowledge 
of  dancing  imparted  to  them  in  their  infancy,  afforded  an 
opportunity  for  a  scanty  subsistence.  It  is  whispered 
that  the  elder  one  is  about  to  be  married  to  a  very  worthy 
young  man  with  good  prospects  in  life. 

By  this  time  the  ladies  are  nearly  all  in  dancing  cos- 
tume, and  the  solitary  violin  in  the  orchestra  is  indulging 
in  rapid  ascents  and  descents  of  the  chromatic  scale,  till 
called  upon  by  the 

BALLET  MASTER 

to  begin.  A  crowd  of  young  girls  present  themselves, 
and  if  ever  you  entertain  the  slightest  doubt  of  the  fal- 
lacy of  the  belief  that  they  are  of  the  weaker  sex,  your 
misgivings  are  at  once  dispelled.  No  stalwart  pioneer  of 
the  masculine  gender  could  habit  himself  in  the  same 
limited  amount  of  clotliing,  and  keep  free  from  cold  and 
rheumatism. 

The  stage  has  just  been  watered,  to  prevent  their  slip- 
ping. Their  shoes  are  very  thin  in  the  uppers,  and  a 
trifle  thinner  in  the  soles  ;  they  are  of  various  colors,  pink 
being  the  favorite  tint.  They  are  somewhat  dirty  (the 
shoes)  and  have  been,  when  new,  used  for  evening  per- 
formances, but  are  now,  with  the  addition  of  two  or 
three  layers  of  darning  cotton  latticed  across  the  toes, 
pressed  into  service  for  rehearsals.  Their  skirts  have  an 
etherial,  gauzy  look,  profuse  in  circumference,  but  extreme- 
ly contracted  in  a  longitudinal  direction.  A  jacket,  some- 
times fitting  closely  to  the  figure,  at  others  worn  loosely, 
with  the  hair  well  secured,  completes  the  toilet. 

The  principal  female  dancer  is  going  through  a  series  of 
gymnastics  in  the  rear,  that  would  dislocate  the  limbs  of 
one  unskilled  in  the  art  of  dancing.  It  consists  of  form- 
ing rapid  circles  ;  first  with  one  foot,  then  with  the  other, 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 


177 


Ballet  at  Rehearsal. 


178  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

finishing  by  tummg pirouettes,  after  raising  one  leg  to  a 
level  with  the  comb  at  the  back  of  her  head. 

"  Now  zen,  come,"  shouts  the  ballet  master. 

"  Ladies,  vy  you  no  make  haste,  shall  I  not  vait  here  all 
day  for  you  ?    Dis  is  too  pad  altogether." 

This  gentleman  has  been  twenty  years  in  this  country, 
and  asserts  that  he  was  born  in  the  city  of  Paris,  where 
his  father  was  a  man  of  great  military  distinction,  and 
his  mother  one  of  the  belles  of  the  French  capital. 
Some  of  his  professional  brethren  have,  with  the  natural 
jealousy  which  talent  always  inspires,  insisted  that  Belfast 
in  the  North  of  Ireland,  has  the  honor  of  his  nativity. 
Talent  is  of  no  country;  but  it  is  a  singular  fact,  worthy 
of  observation,  that  while  our  friend,  the  3fciitre  de  JBallet 
has  for  so  many  years  been  an  adept  at  all  the  luxuries 
of  a  foreign  locality,  he  rather  retrogrades  in  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  language.  If  we  were  in  his  confidence,  he 
would  probably  let  us  into  the  secret  that,  having  dis- 
covered the  bent  of  the  public  inclination,  he  was  willing 
to  pander  to  the  belief  so  universally  entertained  by  the 
masses,  that  no  man  can  possibly  excel  in  the  Terpsicho- 
rian  art  if  he  speak  the  English  language  with  any  degree 
of  fluency. 

"  Now  zen  if  you  please,"  turning  to  the  instrumen- 
talist . 

"All  ready,  go  along  zen." 

The  violin  has  only  uttered  a  few  bars,  when  it  is  sud- 
denly  silenced  by  the  slapping   of  the   ballet   master's 

hands,  and  requesting  Miss  J to  change  her  manner 

of  using  the  right  arm. 

"  You  no  graceful  at  all !  Zis  is  ze  way,"  placing  his 
rotund  figure  in  an  attitude,  by  way  of  exemi^lification. 

They  make  another  start,  and  after  a  few  more  similar 
mishaps,  the  principal  danseuse  goes  through  her  solos, 
the  corps  de  ballet  close  in  upon  her,  form  a  graceful  centre 


FOOTLTGHT    FLASHES.  179 

piece,  with  scarfs  elevated  above  her  head,  and  they  are 
dismissed  with  an  admonition  to  be  punctual  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  not  forget  the  instructions  given  them. 

The  vioUnist  packs  up  his  instrument,  and  departs  for 
some  resort  congenial  to  his  nature.  If  he  be  of  Teuton- 
ic origin,  his  desires  tend  towards  a  spot  redolent  of  the 
habits  and  customs  of  that  numerous  and  thriving  race. 
If  the  balmy  breath  of  Italy  fanned  his  infant  brow,  he 
may  be  met  surrounded  by  professors  of  the  art  for  which 
that  charming  climate  has  been  for  ages  distinguished.  If 
of  native  growth,  he  may,  not  unlikely,  in  his  hours  of  leis- 
ure blend  the  exercise  of  the  commercial  with  the  musical, 
the  cares,  and  interests  of  which  former  will  be,  in  his 
absence,  presided  over  by  his  wife.  There  perhaps,  in  a 
thickly  populated  part  of  the  city,  will  his  partner  be  seen 
adding  to  their  little  competence. 

One  of  the  most  important  periods  in  dramatic  life  is 
the  day  on  which  the  salaries  are  disbursed,  and  is  called 

SALARY    DAY 

At  about  twelve  o'clock  on  every  seventh  play  day  from 
the  opening  of  the  season,  does  this  highly  interesting 
epoch  arrive  ;  six  nights  constituting  a  week.  The  ohbiee 
spirits  of  the  theatre  term  this  the  day  on  which  the 
Ghost  walks.  And  the  question  will  frequently  be  put 
from  one  to  another  in  an  affected  sepulchral  tone,  wheth- 
er "That  thing  hath  appeared." 

The  Treasurer,  prior  to  the  hour  for  liquidating  the 
weekly  claims,  folds  up  the  amount  due  to  each,  writing 
the  name  of  the  recipient  on  the  outside,  who  signs  a  book 
to  the  effect  that  he,  or  she,  has  been  put  in  jjossession 
of  the  money  due  to  that  date. 

A  code  of  laws  ai-e  drawn  up  in  every  Theatre  for  the 
enforcement  of  promptness  in  business,  thus  : 

Absence  from  rehearsal    without  proper  notice  to  the 


180  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

promiJter,  subjects  the  transgressor  to  a  graduated  forfeit 
of  from  twenty-five  cents  to  a  dollar. 

The  profession  are  in  general  very  attentive,  with  few 
exceptions,  to  this  necessary  duty,  and  the  forfeits  are 
but  seldom  enforced.  If  carelessness  is  likely  to  take  a 
chronic  form,  the  manager  resorts  to  the  following  notice, 
viz: 

The  manager  regrets  to  observe  an  inertness  on  the  part  of  the 
members  of  the  company,  which  is  extremely  prejudicial  to  the 
conduct  of  the  establishment ;  therefore  is  reluctantly  compelled 
to  direct  attention  to  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Theatre,  the 
terms  of  which  will  be  most  rigidly  enforced,  without  distinction, 
lirom  this  date. 

By  order  of  the  manager 

Prompter. 

This  notice  has  the  desired  effect.  Those  who  are  rep- 
rehensible, taking  the  hint. 

As  the  season  progresses,  the  peculiarities  incident  to 
every  community,  begin  to  present  themselves.  Some  of 
the  ladies  of  the  ballet  have  a  propensity  for  literature 
of  the  sensation  order,  while  all  are  profusely  ingenious 
in  the  knitting  department.  They  beguile  their  spare 
time  at  rehearsals  with  the  latter,  to  a  great  extent.  Not 
only  do  the  parties  above  named  indulge  in  this  practice, 
but  those  of  the  more  prominent  of  the  sex  frequently 
devote  much  time  to  a  similar  pursuit. 

THE  SOUBEETTE. 

After  partaking  of  a  hearty  and  hastily  dispatched 
breakfast,  this  young  lady  departs  for  rehearsal  —  prob- 
ably reaching  the  theatre  just  too  late  for  her  first  scene. 
If  the  prompter  suggests,  as  he  most  likely  will,  that  a 
little  more  punctuality  would  be  desirable  for  the  better 
conduct  of  business,  the  soubrette  will  insinuate  that  she 
is  never  by  any  possibility  behind  her  time  —  that  the 
clock  at  home  is  a  model  of  mechanical  exactness,  and 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  181 

would  be  a  shining  example  for  the  one  provided  for  the 
green-room,  it  being  an  undisputed  fact  that  a  timepiece 
furnished  for  that  apartment  never  had,  from  the  dawn  ot 
the  ancient  drama,  properly  performed  its  functions. 

That  time  honored  institution,  the  British  Beadle,  is 
considered  by  acute  judges  of  his  habits  and  customs,  to 
feel  the  dignity  and  importance  of  his  significance,  even 
when  not  decorated  with  the  official  ermine.  The  sub- 
ject of  our  present  enquiry  has  in  like  manner,  become 
equally  identified  with  the  piquancy  of  the  waiting 
maid,  who,  on  the  stage,  is  received  into  the  sacred  con- 
fidence of  their  employer's  daughters,  therefore  seldom 
accepts  an  admonition  from  the  prompter  in  a  spirit  of 
content,  or  thankfulness.  This  is,  however,  ex2:)anded  or 
diminished  in  proportion  to  the  position  she  may,  by  the 
influence  of  her  professional  ability,  occupy  in  the  esteem 
of  a  generous  public. 

When  buoyed  up  by  this  conviction,  the  soubrette  is 
not  slow  to  impart  to  a  congenial  female  spirit,  "  that  she 

has  no  desire  for  Mr. the  prompter,  to  dictate  to  her  an 

inventory  of  the  duties  for  which  she  is  engaged  ;  that 
she  believes — for  who  shall  gainsay  it?  —  that  she 
thoroughly  knows  her  business,  and  don't  thank  him  for 
directing  special  attention  to  her  because  the  manager  is 
within  hearing ;  while  he  is  ever  willing  to  regard  with  a 

lenient  eye,  the  constant  derelictions  of  Miss ,  who  is 

retained  for  the  exposition  of  young  ladies  of  the  youth- 
ful and  romantic  kind." 

This  scathing  charge  is  usually  delivered  with  a  nega- 
tive significance  ;  but  its  effect  is  clearly  comprehended 
by  him  Avho,  if  he  perform  his  duty  faithfully,  is  seldom 
much  admired  by  the  sex  whom  we  are  taught  to  regard 
as  man's  greatest  blessing. 

Having  disposed  of  her  part  of  the  dialogue  of  the 
play,  together  with  the  acrimony  which  this  little  incident 


182  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

has  begotten,  the  soubrette  joins  a  small  knot  of  ladies 
who  are  seated  in  the  green-room,  busily  occujDied  in  manu- 
facturing indefinite  looking  arrangements  for  the  adorn- 
ment of  part  of  the  habiliments  of  the  sex  concealed  from 
the  vulgar  gaze,  and  enters  into  a  sweeping  condemnation 
of  the  whole  race  of  prompters,  breaking  off  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  tirade  with  a  request  to  know  where  Miss  J 

purchased  the  cotton  she  is  using,  for  she  —  the  soubrette 
—  had  ransacked  every  store  in  town,  no  later  than  yes- 
terday, in  search  of  some  of  that  consistency,  without 
success. 

The  gentleman  retained  for  the  comic  department,  now 
enters,  and  after  offering  the  compliments  of  the  morn- 
ing to  the  ladies,  suggests  to  Miss the  soubrette,  that 

it  will  be  desirable  for  them  to  try  over  the  new  duet 
they  are  to  sing  in  the  forthcoming  drama  ;  a  proceeding 
to  which  the  lady  addressed  readily  assents,  but  suddenly 
remembers,  that  in  her  hurry  to  attend  that  shameful  ten 
o'clock  rehearsal,  she  has  left  the  score  upon  the  piano  in 
her  sitting  room. 

The  comic  gentleman  being  summoned  for  the  rehear- 
sal of  a  scene,  the  soubrette  enters  into  a  most  elaborate 
description  of  a  new  pattern  of  knitting  she  has  just 
culled  from  the  Ladies'  Magazine,  the  which  is  received 
with  much  interest,  till  the  gentlemen  have  quitted  the 
room,  whei*eupon  she  moves  an  adjournment  to  a  more 
secluded  spot,  where  she  may  impart  to  her  hearers  the 
contents  of  a  most  passionate  epistle  but  recently  re- 
ceived from  some  unknown  source.  A  young  lady,  very 
much  heated  from  her  recent  exertions  in  a  pas  de  deux, 
suggests  one  of  the  dressing  rooms.  No  one  offering  an 
amendment  to  this  proposal,  the  party  make  their  way 
to  that  retreat,  encountering  at  the  door  of  the  apart- 
ment a  slatternly  person  of  their  own  sex,  but  of  what 
complexion  it  is  difficult  to  decide.     This  is  one  of  the 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  183 

cleaners,  whose  professional  avocation  evidently  affords 
no  leisure  for  the  exercise  of  her  ability  upon  herself. 

The  door  being  well  secured  fiom  intruders,  our  hero- 
ine produces  a  tender  epistle,  couched  in  the  most  poetic 
strain,  Avherein  the  afflicted  writer  "  has  seen  but  to 
adore  her!  with  ample  means,  and  a  heart  overflowing 
with  the  worthiest  considerations,  he  is  madly  desirous  to 
link  the  destinies  of  two  natures  which,  he  felt  assured 
would,  on  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  each  other,  vi- 
brate with  the  most  ardent  sentiments.  A  record  of  the 
melancholy  wreck  a  cruel  silence  would  inevitably  pro- 
duce, might  be  nightly  observed  seated  in  one  of  the 
stage  boxes,  with  a  small  white  rose  decorating  his  button- 
hole, where  he  would  be  foithfully  posted  so  long  as  his 
natural  functions  remained  in  a  sufficiently  quiescent 
condition  to  enable  him  to  leave  his  bed.  A  state  of  his 
position  would  thus  be  readily  obtainable  by  all  who  had 
the  curiosity,  or  charity  to  enquire,  and  when  his  manly 
essence  was  so  far  depressed  as  to  preclude  the  possi- 
bility of  his  presence  in  his  accustomed  spot,  it  might  be 
taken  for  granted  he  was  seeking  repose  to  his  agonised 
spirit  upon  that  couch  in  whose  embrace  he  would  nestle 
with  the  resignation  of  a  blighted  being,  and  the  unhappy 
victim  of  a  too  confiding  nature,  which  an  acutely  delicate 
organization  would  not  permit  him  to  subdue." 

It  not  nnfrequently  happens  that  these  precious  mis- 
sives are  posted  in  the  green-room  for  the  amusement  of 
the  company.  The  hapless  author"  regarding  the  atten- 
tion bestowed  upon  his  person  by  the  artists  of  the  eve- 
ning, as  a  consequent  curiosity  upon  his  being  the  chosen 
one  of  her  whose  seclusion  is  impertinently  invaded  by 
the  heartless  roue^  or  the  unprincipled  adventurer. 

The  lady  of  whom  we  speak  has  been  destined  by  the 
hand  of  nature  to  occupy  an  elevated  position  in  the 
calendar  of  beauty,  as  a  brunette.     She  holds,  however, 


184  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

the  object  of  the  original  intention  as  inimical  to  modern 
reqviirements,  and  by  the  aid  of  cosmetics  would  convert 
herself  into  a  blonde,  —  the  prosj^ects  of  achieving  a  satis- 
factory result  are  rather  vague  and  unsuccessful. 

The  rehearsal  over,  the  soubretto,  and  two  of  the  la- 
dies, depart  to  purchase  small  articles  for  their  sex's  use, 
and  during  their  walk  dilate  upon  the  most  becoming  tints 
with  which  to  decorate  the  new  boddice  now  in  course 
of  construction  for  the  stage,  with  an  occasional  outburst 
of  indignation  on  some  of  the  last  fashions,  the  head-gear 
generally  demanding  the  greatest  attention,  till  they  sep- 
arate for  their  respective  dwellings. 

After  dinner  she  proceeds  to  arrange  plateaus  of  rib- 
bon of  variegated  hues,  in  double  file  around  an  apron  of 
pink  silk,  with  extremely  contracted  pockets,  the  same 
in  M^hich  she  carries  her  Ijands  while  indulging  in  repartee 
with  the  head  of  the  family  in  whose  service  she  is  supposed 
to  be  employed  as  a  domestic,  and  whose  equanimity  she 
somewhat  ruffles  by  her  very  free  definition  of  the  rights 
and  liberties  of  the  female  race. 

Toward  evening,  her  preparations  being  completed 
for  the  performance,  she  reclines  upon  a  sofa,  or  easy 
chair,  and  carefully  peruses  the  words  of  the  character 
entrusted  to  her  by  the  dramatist ;  and  about  an  hour 
prior  to  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  sallies  forth,  satchel  in 
hand,  to  take  part  in  an  underplot  with  a  flaxen  haired 
youth,  whose  chief  occupation  appears  to  be  to  pay  hom- 
age at  the  shrine  of 'Cujjid.  With  alternate  attacks  of 
iealousy  and  repentance,  (as  in  real  life)  a  union  is  effect- 
ed between  the  happy  pair  in  the  third  act,  their  worldly 
responsibilities  dawning  upon  them  with  strict  conformity 
to  the  laws  of  nature,  till,  in  the  fifth,  we  generally  find 
them  established  in  an  hostelry  on  the  very  verge  of  a 
mountain  peak,  much  frequented  by  vocal  huntsmen, 
whose  sport  is  supposed  to  be  the  chamois.     Here,  sur- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  185 

rounded  by  family  cares,  our  heroine  propounds  the  prin- 
ciples of  total  abstinence  to  her  jjartner,  whose  chief 
weakness  appears  to  be  a  fondness  for  appropriating  to 
his  own  use  the  viands  he  provides  for  his  jjatrons. 

Such  are  the  duties,  professionally,  of  our  subject. 
Domestically,  she  may  be  regarded  as  imbued  with  the 
same  womanly  instincts  as  distinguish  lier  sex  in  the  sev- 
eral phases  of  the  world's  history.  Happy  for  her,  if  she 
be  blessed  with  the  protecting  presence  of  parents  or 
brothers,  to  step  between  her  and  the  arts  of  the  des- 
troyer. The  fulsome  adulation  of  empty-headed  foppery 
she  generally  receives  for  about  as  much  as  it  is  worth, 
and  very  rarely  consummates  a  marriage  with  the  come- 
dian above  mentioned,  despite  the  universal  opinion,  that 
professional  similitude  begets  such  a  result. 

Unhappily  for  her,  she  at  times  unites  herself  to  one 
whose  means  are  not  of  that  positive,  or  satisfactory  na- 
ture represented,  and  awakes  to  the  fact  when  too  late,  to 
know  that  the  evening  of  her  life  will  be  consumed  in 
laboring  for  the  support  of  him,  and  his  offspring. 

However  intrepid  the  assertion  be  considered,  in  offer- 
ing compliment  to  her  general  good  and  proper  deport- 
ment, both  socially  and  professionally,  it  is  nevertheless 
true,  that  very  few  of  her  sex  would  exhibit  as  much  sta- 
bility of  character  if  placed  among  the  same  artful  sur- 
roundings of  false  pi'ofessions  and  dazzling  deceptions  as 
constantly  encircle  her  !  And  it  is  no  small  boast  to  know, 
that  the  artiste  can  look  back  when,  in  after  life,  she  shall 
have  become  encompassed  by  maternal  cares,  to  the  time 
when  to  escape  unscathed  from  the  polluting  breath  of 
scandal,  was  considered,  by  her  own  sex  particularly,  quite 
inconsistent  with  the  character  of  the  soubrette. 

DRAMATIC  MOTHEKS. 

This  perplexing  epidemic  disposes  itself  through  most 
theatres  with  a  virulence  painfully  distressing  to  all  who 


186  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

—  unhappily    for  tliein  —  come    within    the    pale  of  its 
blighting  influence. 

Worthily  desirous  to  watch  over  their  female  offspring, 
while  engaged  at  their  professional  duties,  they  exhibit  a 
duenna-like  supervision,  s])reading  anarchy  and  confu- 
sion in  every  direction  throughout  the  dramatic  camp, 

Mrs.  Plumpley  has  a  daughter,  who  enjoys  the  proud 
distinction  of  holding  captive  the  hearts  of  susceptible 
youth  by  her  personal  graces ;  as  well  as  the  more  ma- 
tured auditor  by  her  histrionic  superiority.  This  much 
coveted  privilege  would  be  duly  and  properly  appre- 
ciated by  its  possessor;  but  that  a  maternal  instinct  in 
terposes  to  dam  up  the  well-spring  of  her  nature  !  mak- 
ing her,  in  after  life,  but  a  reflex  of  her  present  instruc- 
tor. 

No  one  who  has  watched  with  any  degree  of  observa- 
tion the  several  phases  of  character  with  which  the  thea- 
tre is  beset,  can  have  failed  to  be  impressed  Avith  the 
conviction  that  "  Dramatic  Mothers  "  are,  in  their  instinct 
and  habits,  a  grave  and  serious  offence  against  the  com- 
fort and  equanimity  of  the  establishment  across  whose 
portal  some  designing  influence  has  permitted  them  to 
intrude. 

The  door-keeper  excites  the  undisguised  hatred  of  this 
lady  by  (before  he  had  the  honor  of  her  personal  acquain- 
tance) refusing  to  permit  her  to  besiege  the  building  with- 
out permission  of  the  manager,  as  set  down  in  positive 
characters  within  his  presiding  sanctum. 

The  dressing  room  is  the  favorite /oca/e  for  the  exercise 
of  her  most  popular  and  personal  manipulations ;  there 
she  can  dilate  upon  the  inefliciency  of  ladies  who  are  the 
pets  of  the  public  at  other  establishments;  and  whose  per- 
sonal beauty  or  dramatic  skill  are  in  any  way  likely  to  con- 
flict with  the  ascent  of  her  own  charge  up  the  professional 
ladder. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  187 

Great  pleaders  in  criminal  law  have  often  been  distin- 
guished for  acerbity  in  conducting  the  cross  examination 
of  the  witnesses  on  the  opposite  side,  and  wlien  we  know 
the  acumen  displayed  by  our  heroine  on  the  public  as  well 
as  private  conduct  of  her  friends  and  acquaintance,  we 
feel  a  deep  regret  that  the  practice  of  that  learned  pro- 
fession should  be  monopolized  by  the  so  called,  sterner 
sex. 

In  the  dressing-room,  preparations  for  the  evening's 
performance  are  in  a  state  of  the  usual  bewilderment 
which  generally  distinguished  that  apartment,  and  the 
subject  of  our  sketch  has  endeavored  to  allay  an  attack 
of  nervousness  with  which  one  of  the  ladies  is  afflicted,  by 
assuring  her  that  her  head  looks  a  perfect  fright !  that  no 
blonde  should  wear  ringlets  in  such  profusion  ;  with  other 
remarks  of  a  similar  nature.  Not  having  sufficient  skill  to 
conduct  a  battle  of  words  against  so  expert  a  profes- 
sor, the  fair  one  affects  to  make  a  different  disposition  of 
her  much  admired  tresses,  finishes  by  giving  a  few  touches 
of  a  pearly  compound  to  her  countenance,  and  hastily 
beats  a  retreat. 

The  costume  of  the  several  ladies  of  the  establishment 
is  a  matter  of  serious  concern  to  our  heroine,  and  it  is 
difficult  for  her  to  look  with  an  eye  of  favor  upon  any  who 
may  be  in  possession  of  habiliments  that  can,  by  their  col- 
or or  style,  excel  those  belonging  to  her  darling  Julia. 

The  lady  who  has  just  entered,  and  is  unfolding  a  bun- 
dle freighted  with  a  satin  dress  of  exquisite  tint,  and  made 
in  the  best  and  most  becoming  manner,  opens  the  flood- 
gates of  the  old  lady's  envy,  from  which  she  will  not  for 
some  time  recover. 

"  Bless  me,  my  dear  !     Why  I  do  declare  you've  got  a 
new  dress  (grasping  it,  to  test  its  quality.)     A  present,  of 
course.     My  Julia  was  offered  a  presentation  the  other 
day,  of  the  most  delicious  thing  I  ever  saw  ;  a  Perkins's 


188  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

purple,  my  dear.  But  to  my  thinking,  it  isn't  proper  or 
prudent  for  single  ladies  to  receive  presents,  no  matter 
under  what  guise  they  may  be  offered ;  therefore  I  at 
once  refused  to  permit  it  to  be  accepted." 

"  What,  my  dear,  you  bought  it  yourself?  You  astonish 
me  !  saved  it  up  out  of  your  salary  !  Oh  dear  me,  that''s 
very  odd!  Oh,  yes,  I  see,  it's  a  last  year's  pattern.  Are 
you  sure  it  isn't  a  dyed  satin,  dear  me.  Oh  —  oh!  I 
remember  now,  it  is  one  of  those  I  saw  at  Stewart's  some 
time  since,  among  those  cheap  things  on  the  counter, 
where  the  bargain  seekers  hover  about.  Eh,  fifteen  dol- 
lars, I  think  they  were  marked.  I  thought  they  would 
soon  become  very  common,  so  made  up  my  mind  that  I 
wouldn't  have  one,  but  let  Julia  be  properly  dressed;  for 
in  her  position,  you  know,  my  dear,  it  is  so  very  necessa- 
ry ;  with  you,  who  play  only  smaller  parts,  of  course  any- 
thing will  do,  and  the  public  can  hardly  expect  that,  with 
your  means,  you  can  appear  as  well  dressed  as  she  does." 
Such  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  friendly  admonition  meted 
out  by  the  "  Dramatic  Mother  "  to  all  who  are  at  all  like- 
ly to  divide,  or  occupy  the  attention  of  the  audience,  in 
any  degree  conflicting  with  her  "darling  Julia." 

During  the  evening's  performance,  she  plays  the  part  of 
a  corpulent  Hebe,  and  wanders  after  the  object  of  her 
solicitude,  with  an  acidulated  compound  in  a  tumbler, 
aiding  her  with  advice  on  the  proper  exposition  of  her 
natural  graces,  and  an  earnest  appeal  that  she  convey  the 
tones  of  her  voice  with  a  more  audible  effect  to  the  ex- 
treme limit  of  the  building. 

The  distribution  of  the  several  characters  in  the  vari- 
ous pieces  represented,  is  a  matter  of  the  most  serious 
concern  to  her.  The  colloquial  contests  in  which  her 
daughter  may  be  engaged,  must  be  conducted  with  those 
whose  position  commands  a  certain  amount  of  respect 
and  confidence  from  the  patrons  of  the  establishment; 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  189 

evidencing  thereby,  either  a  profound  esteem  for  the  wel 
fare  of  the  author,  or  a  maternal  solicitude  for  an  efFec 
ive  display  of  the  family  consequence. 

When  her  daughter  shall  reach  the  period  that  suggests 
itself  as  fitting  for  the  fulfillment  of  her  sex's  destiny, 
her  feelings  are  much  harrassed  to  decide  upon  whom  the 
honor  shall  be  conferred.  The  pleasure  of  her  who  is  to 
be  a  contracting  i)arty  to  the  ceremony,  is  not  unfrequent- 
ly  made  subservient  to  the  future  comfort  and  j^rovision 
of  the  maternal  martinet^  whose  prospective  afliuence  is 
hopelessly  crushed  by  the  fact,  that,  after  repeated  fail- 
ures to  obtain  permission  to  select  a  partner,  she  surrep- 
titiously bestows  her  hand  upon  a  gentleman  whose  fa- 
cility for  supporting  a  Avife  is  somewhat  visionary ;  or,  it 
may  be,  that  being  musically  inclined,  she  will  seek  con- 
geniality in  harmonious  contact  with  a  professor  of  that 
divine  art,  who  has  long  looked  upon  her  with  an  eye  of 
affection  while  engaged  in  the  same  establishment  as  her- 
self, as  a  performer  on  the  violino  secondo. 

THE  WARDROBE. 

We  have  omitted  to  take  a  peep  at  the  wardrobe 
where  the  costumes  of  such  richness  of  design  and  ma- 
terial are  stoi*ed.  As  we  enter  it  we  find  the  keeper  of 
the  place  engaged  in  making  some  repairs  to  a  doublet 
and  trunks.  He  is  extremely  polite,  and  cheerfully  and 
with  alacrity  exhibits  all  his  best  dresses,  those  of  his 
own  make  especially.  He  has  them  all  packed  in  layers 
on  shelves,  all  round  the  room,  with  a  muslin  cover  for 
each  department ;  in  the  same  manner  that  dry-goods 
merchants  preserve  their  stock  from  dust  during  the 
night.  A  tailor's  board  is  in  the  centre  of  the  room ;  on 
it  arc  implements  of  the  trade,  and  some  dresses  wanting 
new  strings,  and  buttons.  If  the  wardrobe-keeper  be 
engaged  to  go  on  the  stage  when  necessary,  he  is  easily 


190 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 


The  Wardrobe  Room, 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  191 

distinguished,  like  the  super-master,  by  the  careful  way  in 
which  he  is  costumed.  Propriety  is  not  a  matter  of  much 
moment  to  him,  and  the  facilities  he  possesses  of  obtain- 
ing the  costliest  dresses,  regardless  of  the  position  in  so- 
ciety the  individual  he  represents  is  supposed  to  occupy, 
will  frequently  tempt  him  to  present  himself  to  the  mul- 
titude a  perfect  meteor  of  dazzling  brilliancy. 

As  the  season  progresses,  we  cannot  foil  to  observe  the 
little  bits  of  attention  consequent  on  the  mixing  of  the 
sexes  in  all  communities.  A  shower  of  rain  at  the  close 
of  rehearsal,  or  after  performances,  will  actuate  the  male 
members  to  offer  the  protection  of  their  umbrellas  to  the 
opposite  sex.  The  extent  to  which  these  attentions  are 
persevered  in  at  times,  may  result  in  the  startling  informa- 
tion that  Mr. and  Miss were  married  the 

previous  day,  quite  unknown  to  the  parents  of  either  par- 
ties. 

The  gentleman  before  mentioned,  and  Avho  enacts  the 
young  men,  and  on  whom  the  ladies  look  with  an  eye  of 
favor,  does  not  exhibit  the  amount  of  attention  the  ladies 
seem  to  expect,  and  their  jealousy  is  invoked  to  an  excita- 
ble degree,  when  they  learn  from  very  reliable  authority, 
that  the  only  daughter  of  a  merchant  residing  in  the  most 
fashionable  part  of  the  city,  has  fallen  desperately  in  love 
with  him,  and  their  marriage  may  be  shortly  expected  to 
take  place. 

You  cannot  fail  to  observe  an  extremely  respectable 
gentleman,  who  seldom  enters  the  green-room,  but  walks 
to  and  fro  at  the  back  of  the  stage,  carrying  his  gold 
headed  cane  after  the  fashion  of  an  officer  in  the  army. 
He  plays  a  portion  of  the  heavy  business,  but  when 
younger  was  a  tragedian.  He  has  seen  a  good  deal  of 
service  in  his  profession,  and  in  intellectual  consequence 
is  far  ahead  of  the   entire  establishment. 

The  young  men  think  him  odd  and  cynical,  when  he 


192  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

them  with  a  look  of  discontent  at  their  opinions  of  the 
efforts  of  certain  much  lauded  performances.  He  is  quite 
a  recluse  in  his  habits,  and  the  changes  in  dramatic  taste 
that  constantly  occur,  seem  to  bother  his  conception  of 
propriety,  sadly.  The  line  of  parts  he  has  to  play  seldom 
attract  the  attention  of  the  critic,  but  an  occasional  lover 
of  art  for  art's  sake,  will  derive  much  satisfaction  from  the 
way  he  delivers  the  lines  entrusted  to  him.  He  is  unusu- 
ally spruce  in  appearance  this  morning,  and  wears  a  new 
hat.  Only  think,  he  has  been  highly  complimented  by 
the  critic  of  a  leading  journal  for  his  performance  of  Cas- 
sius^  in  lieu  of  a  highly  priced  artist,  who  was  taken  sick. 
It  is  the  first  time  he  has  been  noticed  by  the  all  pow- 
erful censor,  and  with  the  earnest,  but  perhaps  fallacious, 
hope  of  an  increased  income,  he  has  effected  a  purchase. 

The  gentleman  who  was  to  get  a  share  of  the  comedy, 
does  not  feel  much  flattered  when  he  discovers  that  it  is 
only  the  worst  share  that  has  fallen  to  his  lot. 

Some  of  the  new  members  grow  into  favor,  while  some 
of  them  do  not.  They  all  seize  with  the  greatest  avidity 
every  journal  that  expresses  an  opinion  on  their  merits. 
Those  who  are  adverse  to  them  of  course  must  have  a 
motive  for  maligning  them,  and  undervaluing  their  tal- 
ents. 

Once  or  twice,  perhaps,  the  manager  may  be  requested 
to  relieve  some  lady,  or  gentleman,  from  the  (to  them) 
annoyance  of  appearing  in  some  character  for  which  they 
have  been  cast,  insisting  that  it  does  not  come  within  the 
terms  of  their  contract  to  be  called  upon  to  do  it.  At 
times  the  point  is  yielded,  at  others  the  manager  insists 
that  he  or  she  play  the  part,  or  they  are  fully  aware 
of  the  consequences  of  a  refusal.  If  they  remain  obdu- 
rate, they  probably  have  to  quit  the  theatre,  —  this  is, 
however,  a  very  rare  case. 

The  members  of  every  profession  are  all  more  or  less 


FOOTLIGIIT   FLASHES,  193 

liable  at  times  to  be  overtaken  by  sickness  or  misfortune, 
resulting  in  pecuniary  difficulties  very  distressing  to  all, 
but  particularly  to  those  of  an  intellectual  character.  It 
may  not  be  surprising  for  the  public  to  know,  that  the 
professors  of  the  dramatic  art  are,  at  times,  visited  with 
the  pangs  of  penury,  in  common  with  others  whose  in- 
comes are  more  positive  and  continuous.  They  have 
that  peculiar  delicacy  always  inseparable  from  those 
whose  pursuits  are  of  a  studious  character,  and  confine 
the  knowledge  of  their  condition  entirely  within  the 
sphere  of  their  own  calling. 

THE    NEEDY  ACTOR. 

On  a  cheerless  night  when  the  rain  is  forming  into  ice 
as  it  falls,  may  be  seen  the  figure  of  a  man  near  the  stage 
door.  He  pauses  ere  he  enters.  His  hand  is  upon  the 
latch  ;  voices  are  heard  in  conversation  with  the  hall- 
keeper,  and  he  retreats  with  the  blush  of  genteel  indi- 
gence upon  his  cheek.  Why  does  he  dread  to  meet  the 
gaze  of  the  man  whose  voice  he  has  just  heard  ?  Years 
past,  when  he,  the  needy  one,  was  at  the  head  of  a  large 
establishment,  he  gave  employment  to  the  man  within, 
and  his  pride  will  not  permit  him  to  encounter  him. 
He  is  sparingly  clad,  and  ventures  forth  at  night  only. 
When  the  sound  of  the  voices  have  died  away,  he  seizes 
the  opportunity  to  enter,  and  depositing  a  small  note 
with  a  person  the  hall-keeper  has  left  in  charge  for  a  mo- 
ment, requests  as  a  particular  favor  it  may  be  sent  in  as 

speedily  as  possible  to  Mr. ,  and  say  he  will  call  in 

the  course  of  the  evening  for  an  answer. 

The  party  addressed,  requests  he  will  wait,  and  take 
a  seat  near  the  stove.  The  petitioner,  affecting  an  air  of 
business  urgency,  declines  ;  says  he  has  a  call  or  two  to 
make  elsewhere,  and  will  look  in  again  on  his  return. 

In  the  neighborhood  may  be  seen,  sauntering  about  to 


194  rOOTLlGHT    FLASHES. 

beguile  the  time,  the  author  of  a  letter  craving  from  his 
brother  artists,  "  The  means  whereby  he  may  make  him- 
self presentable  in  society  ;  as  well  as  to  provide  his  family 
with  the  necessaries  of  actual  need  with  which  they  have 
been  for  a  time  deprived.  Those  whom  he  addressed  are 
cognizant,  from  years  of  professional  connection,  of  his 
claim  to  their  kindly  consideration,  and  he  concludes  with 
an  earnest  hope  that  his  most  bitter  enemy  may  never 
be  reduced  to  his  present  painful  extremity." 

In  one  corner  of  the  green-room  stand  a  small  group 
of  men  whose  sympathies  are  very  susceptible  to  the  suf- 
ferings of  their  fellows  in  adversity.  But  a  few  words 
pass  between  them  ;  a  slip  of  paper  is  soon  well  provided 
with  names  attached  to  various  amounts,  in  proportion  to 
the  means  of  the  subscribers.  The  comedian  is  charged 
with  the  pleasing,  but  somewhat  embarrassing  duty,  of  pre- 
senting the  amount  collected.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
performance  he  may  be  seen  taking  the  arm  of  the  peti- 
tioner, and  making  rapid  strides  down  the  street,  in  order 
to  make  his  companion  feel  as  much  at  ease  as  j)ossible, 
while  he  proposes  questions  of  the  present  whereabout  of 
members  of  the  profession  he  cares  nothing  to  know. 
Turning  into  some  convenient  locality  secure  from  notice, 
he  invites  his  companion  to  partake  of  refreshment,  and 
in  the  course  of  the  repast,  produces  the  results  of  a  little 
collection,  regretting  it  is  not  larger,  but  they  have  many 
calls  upon  them,  and  further,  the  salaries  of  the  company 
are  not  as  much  as  report  had  emblazoned  them  to  be. 

With  a  lighter  heart  than  when  he  started  on  his  mis- 
sion, does  the  once  popular  actor  return  to  his  scantily 
provided  dwelling,  with  tears  of  gratitude  for  the  welcome 
gift,  bestowed  in  the  quiet,  unostentatious  way  peculiar  to 
a  class,  whose  means,  however  limited,  are  always  freely 
bestowed  upon  the  needy  and  deserving. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  195 

As  the  end  of  the  season  draw  near,  the  names  oftlie 
several  candidates  for  public  consideration,  grace  the  top 
of  the  bills,  as  recipients  of  a  benefit.  The  plays  each 
person  proposes  to  present  to  his,  or  her  patrons,  are 
submitted  to  the  manager,  who  decides  whether  it  be 
within  the  resources  of  the  establishment  to  do  them 
with  befitting  credit.  If  we  can  not  take  a  liberty  with 
our  friends,  with  whom  should  we  be  permitted  the  privi- 
lege ?  In  selecting  a  character  to  appear  in  on  the  im- 
portant event,  it  is  not  uncommon  for  the  beneficiary  to 
adopt  one  somewhat  above  the  grade  of  prominence  he 
or  she  may  be  designed  for.  This  pardonable  weakness 
is  always  kindly  overlooked  by  the  public,  and  mostly 
acceded  to  by  the  manager. 

It  is  an  amusing  mystery  among  the  company,  who  are 
all  anxious  to  be  put  into  possession  of  the  names  of  the 
pieces  each  purposes  to  present  to  their  friends.  At  times 
interests  will  clash,  by  two  persons  wishing  to  fix  upon 
the  same  play.  This  is  arranged  by  the  manager.  The 
proportion  received  by  the  petitioner  at  these  benefits  de- 
pends entirely  upon  the  terms  specified  at  the  time  the 
engagement  is  consummated,  as  a  third,  or  half  of  the 
gross  receipt,  as  the  case  may  be.  It  may  not  be  out  of 
place  here  to  state,  that  the  proceeds,  after  deducting 
extra  expenses,  fall  very  far  below  the  amount  of  the 
public  estimate. 

Ticket  nights  are  taken  by  most  of  the  employes  of 
the  theatre,  these  yield  the  half  of  the  amount  each  per- 
son can  dispose  of,  or  rather  the  half  of  such  tickets  as 
are  presented  at  the  doors. 

The  manager  generally  takes  the  last  night  of  the  sea- 
son for  his  own  benefit,  which  affords  him  the  opportuni- 
ty of  paying  a  graceful  compliment  to  his  company,  "  who 
have  so  ably  seconded  him  in  his  efforts  to  secure  the 
public    esteem.     To  the    public,  for  the    liberal  manner 


196  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

they  have  responded  to  it,  the  which  will  be  an  incentive 
to  future  exertions  ;  and  during  the  recess  he  shall  en- 
deavor to  provide  such  an  array  of  talent  for  the  next 
season  as  shall  far  outstrip  the  present,  now  concluding. 
And  with  an  earnest  hope  to  meet  them  all  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  health  and  prosperity  early  in  the  Autumn,  he 
begs  most  respectfully  to  bid  them  farewell." 

Prior  to  the  end  of  the  season,  the  note  of  preparation 
in  the  minds  of  the  company  has  long  been  sounded  in  rela- 
tion to  the  succeeding.  Those  who  desire  to  remain,  wait 
anxiously  the  result  of  their  letter  of  application  which 
they  have,  by  the  assistance  of  the  call  boy,  had  placed 
upon  the  table  in  the  manager's  room. 

These  applications  are  in  reply  to  the  following  notice 
posted  in  the  green-room  four  weeks  before  the  close  of 
the  season,  viz : 

The  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  company,  are  respectfully  in- 
formed that  the  present  season  will  terminate  on  the Inst. 

Those  who  may  desire  to  re-engage  for  the  season  ensuing,  will 
please  signify  the  same  by  letter,  on  or  before  the . 

Prompter. 


Now  is  every  one  impressed  with  the  same  uneasiness 
housekeepers  have,  as  they  approach  the  period  of  their 
emigration  to  some  other  domestic  habitation.  The  thea- 
tre box  at  the  post  office  is  daily  swollen  to  repletion 
with  replies  from  provincial  managers,  who  have  been  so- 
licited to  give  the  subscriber  six  or  twelve  nights  in  the 
month  of  August.  Some  however,  who  delight  in  the 
world's  luxurious  ease,  betake  themselves  to  the  more 
agreeable  task  of  rural  sports  during  the  hot  spell,  and 
return  to  their  fall  duties  invigorated  by  fresh  air,  and 
Avholesome  recreation. 

The  manager  is  much  employed  replying  to  the  appli- 
cations of  candidates  for  next  season's  engagements,  and 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  197 

members  from  the  rival  establishments  may  be  seen  quit- 
ting the  private  office  with  an  air  of  unconcern,  as  if  it 
were  not  possible  they  could  be  suspected  of  holding 
conference  with  the  manager  upon  any  business  connect- 
ed with  the  theatre,  but  had  simply  dropped  in  to  make 
a  passing  call,  —  an  act  of  politeness  that  never  occurred 
to  them  till  the  present  moment. 

The  company  themselves  are  somewhat  on  the  reserve 
in  relation  to  their  future  prospects.  Those  who  return 
next  season  merely  acknowledge  the  fact  as  if  it  were  a 
matter  of  course,  which  any  one  of  the  smallest  capacity 
must  have  anticipated.  Those,  however,  whose  applica- 
tions have  been  answered  negatively,  assure  you  that  un- 
der no  circumstances  whatever,  would  they  consent  to  a 
repetition  of  the  conduct  they  are  at  present  receiving,  — 
that  in  no  instance  through  the  entire  season  have  they 
had  the  slightest  opportunity  for  the  display  of  their 
ability ;  and  to  endure  a  second  edition  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

The  private  property  of  the  company  is  now  seen  to 
depart  by  instalments  in  boxes,  wrappers,  and  champagne 
baskets.  All  outstanding  accounts  are  sent  in,  audited, 
and  settled. 

The  manager  congratulates  himself  upon  the  success- 
ful termination  of  a  season  begun,  perhaps,  without  any 
great  prospect  of  pecuniary  profit ;  but  happily,  by  his  su- 
perior judgment,  one  of  the  most  paying  campaigns  since 
the  building  was  erected.  The  lessee,  (if  there  be  such 
a  person  behind  the  throne  managerial)  is  highly  pleased 
with  the  tact  displayed  by  his  man  of  business,  in  proof 
whereof  he  is,  while  enjoying  the  luxury  and  hospitality 
of  the  said  lessee  at  his  little  place  in  the  country,  compli- 
mented by  the  presentation  of  a  watch  of  exquisite  work- 
manship, accompanied  by  a  speech  teeming  with  assur- 
ances of  his  personal  regard  for  his  public  talent  and  pri- 
vate worth. 


198  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

The  manager  receives  the  treasure  with  heartfelt  grat- 
itude ;  and  as  he  wends  his  way  to  the  chamber  allotted 
to  his  use,  cannot  help  reflecting  upon  the  oft  quoted 
axiom,  "  that  the  test  of  genius  is  success."  How  varia- 
ble must  be  the  emotions  in  the  breast  of  that  donor  who 
can  fashion  his  liberality  to  the  exigency  of  his  subject ; 
for  when,  during  a  period  of  commercial  disaster,  he  en- 
dured sleepless  nights  of  anxious  thought  for  the  welfare 
of  his  employer,  but  didn't  succeed,  no  words  of  gratitude 
or  encouragement  were  offered,  to  cheer  him  on  his  next 
venture. 

Falling  into  a  deep  slumber,  the  manager  is  happy  to 
become  oblivious  to  the  intricacies  of  all  matters  apper- 
taining to 

BEHIND    THE    SCENES. 

I  desire  to  impress  upon  the  minds  of  my  readers,  that 
the  foregoing  applies  to  the  season's  doings  within  the 
walls  of  a  theatre  conducted  upon  jDrinciples  of  etiquette 
and  business  propriety. 

To  accurately  describe  the  innovations  that  have,  from 
time  to  time,  held  despotic  sway,  in  antagonism  to  those 
as  here  set  down,  would  be  an  endless,  as  well  as  a  hu- 
miliating task.  Man,  philosoj^hers  tell  us,  is  a  progress- 
ive animal,  and  many  eventually  establish  a  code  of  laws 
for  a  dramatic  millennium,  which  consummation  cannot 
arrive  too  soon  for  the  personal  comfort,  as  well  as  the 
pecuniary  interest  of  a  numerous  class,  whose  positions  at 
the  present  time  are  somewhat  indefinite. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

"  Lies  your  way  due  west." 

Twelfth  JVight.    Act  3.     Scene  1. 

The  state  of  Ohio  has  within  its  boundary  a  river  still 
retaining  its  Indian  nomenclature  of  Maumee ;  a  town 
y'clept  Toledo  skirts  one  end  of  it,  while  the  other  termin- 
ates in  Lake  Michigan.  It  was  ushered  into  existence  some- 
where about  the  year  1836,  by  some  hardy  pioneers,  who 
probably  conceived  the  notion  that  when  it  was  thorough- 
ly drained  it  might  become  a  pleasant  spot  for  those  who 
sought  the  invigorating  breezes  from  the  river,  hard  by. 
When  we  visited  this  delicous  retreat,  it  was  under  the  ex- 
citement of  railway  engineering,  and  is  now  (1866)  the  great 
route  from  the  Eastern  states  to  the  AVest.  The  country  a 
few  miles  away  is  beautiful  in  appearance,  and  fertile  to 
profusion  ;  but  the  town  itself  is  deficient  in  every  requi- 
site for  a  healthful  location,  being  filthy  to  the  sight ;  and 
subject  to  frequent  attacks  of  fever  and  ague  in  the  most 
virulent  form.  It  was  at  one  of  these  periodical  arrivals,  that 
we  reached  the  place,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of 
November.  The  disease  Avas  blooming  in  all  its  native 
joyousness,  the  river  donating  its  profuse  miasma  with  its 
customary  liberality.  The  morning  sun  had  commenced 
to  struggle  through  the  thick  and  poisonous  atmosphere, 
with  very  ill  success,  as  we  arrived  from  Cleveland,  and 
are  shaken  to  the  hotel  in  a  vehicle  built  coeval  with  the 
date  of  the  town's  nativity.     The  resting  place  for  travel- 


200  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

lers  is  a  fitting  companion  to  the  other  enjoyment  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  is  not  readily  forgotten  by  those  who, 
by  the  pressure  of  untoward  circumstances,  find  themselves 
entangled  in  its  meshes.  Hotel  keeping  must  be  a  pro- 
fitable speculation  in  many  of  the  western  cities,  if  your 
feelings  can  become,  after  a  sufiicient  course  of  tutorage 
in  the  science  of  extortion,  suflicieutly  callous  to  the  suf- 
ferings of  your  fellow  creatures. 

It  is  Sunday,  and  the  several  boarders  hang  lazily  about 
the  house,  exhibiting  much  restlessness  at  the  approach 
of  the  hour  when  meals  are  served.  As  the  evening 
draws  near,  those  who  are  under  the  influence  of  the  sea- 
son's severity,  hover  around  the  large  circular  stove,  wrap- 
ped in  thick  overcoats,  piteously  awaiting  their  nightly  at- 
tack. 

In  the  morning  I  repair  to  the  building  used  as  the 
theatre,  and  at  the  entrance  and  about  the  passages,  en- 
counter some  of  the  company.  The  leader  of  the  band 
is  on  the  stage  smoking  a  short  pipe  of  tobacco,  and  im- 
parting dramatic  instruction  to  a  dirty  looking  French 
poodle,  whom  I  found  a  prominent  member  of  the  corps 
dramatiqiie,  and  a  great  favorite  with  the  public. 

The  rehearsal  of  "Paul  Pry  "  is  somewhat  tardily  got 
through,  from  the  difliculty  the  manager  has  in  persuad- 
ing either  of  the  ladies  to  do  violence  to  their  personal 
beauty,  and  assume  the  character  of  Mrs.  Subtle!  One 
is  found  (at  last)  bold  enough  to  attempt  the  sacrifice, 
and  the  morning's  business  is  dispensed  with  after  a  fash- 
ion. 

The  manager  expresses  his  regret  that  he  is  a  little 
short  of  people,  but  expects  two  additions  from  a  neigh- 
boring city  the  following  day.  While  I  was  in  conversa- 
tion, an  open  van  approached,  containing  a  family  of  female 
musicians  who,  as  per  placard  hung  around  the  vehicle, 
propose  to  exhibit  their  musical  accomplishments  that 
very  evening,  in  a  grand  instrumental  concert ! 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  201 

Our  manager  is  in  despair.  Such  a  powerful  opposition 
■vvill  ruin  tlie  first  niglit,  as  all  the  young  men  about  town 
would  be  certain  to  patronize  an  exhibition  so  novel,  and 
with  such  good  looking  performers,  too  ?  What  should  we 
do?  Something  in  the  shape  of  counter  attraction  must 
be  thought  of!  I  said  it  couldn't  be  helped,  must  hope 
for  the  best,  and  quitted  the  theatre  with  no  very  san- 
guine expectations  of  the  pecuniary  result  of  our  visit 
to  Toledo. 

I  repaired  to  the  hotel ;  it  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
past  the  time  for  dinner.  The  majority  of  the  inmates 
had  long  quitted  the  table  and  had  finished  two  or  three  ci- 
gars each  ;  therefore,  I  came  in  with  the  fourth  relay  of 
feeders  upon  the  debris  of  the  banquet. 

The  manager  had  promised  to  call  upon  me  after  din- 
ner, to  show  me  the  points  of  interest  with  which,  he 
seemed  really  to  believe,  the  place  abounded.  I  was 
seated  at  the  window  of  my  bed-room,  fortunately  a 
front  one,  Avhen  I  heard  the  approaching  sounds  of  mar- 
tial music,  and  the  tramp  of  the  juvenile  portion  of  the 
populace.  I  turned  my  eyes  in  the  direction  from  whence 
the  sound  'proceeded,  and  was  horror  stricken  to  perceive 
my  friend  pull  up  in  front  of  the  building  with  four  grey 
horses  harnessed  to  an  open  van,  in  which  were  seated 
the  orchestral  performers  attached  to  his  establishment, 
while  himself  assumed  the  office  of  Jehu.  A  place  re- 
served on  his  left  was  evidently  intended  to  be  the  pyre 
on  which  I  was  to  be  sacrificed  ;  for,  stretched  across  the 
vehicle  was  a  huge  canvas  placard  with  this  announce- 
ment : 

W.  Davidge,  the  gi-eat  comedian  from  the  Broadway  Theatre, 
Xew  York,  for  a  few  nights  only,  and  who  will  have  the  honor  of 
making  his  first  appearance  this  evening. 

Taking  a  despairing  glance  at  the  triumphal  car  on 
which  I  was  to  be  burnt  alive  for  the  wonderment  of  an 


202  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

astonished  multitude  I  barricaded  the  door,  disencum- 
bered myself  of  my  outer  garments,  jumped  into  bed, 
declared  I  was  suffering  from  a  sudden  and  violent  attack 
of  sickness,  from  which  I  took  good  care  not  to  recover 
till  the  great  advertising  Juggernaut  car  had  driven  away. 
In  the  evening  I  was  informed  by  this  western  Crummies 
of  the  treat  I  had  missed  ;  for  that  all  the  boys  in  the 
town  had  gone  frantic  with  excitement,  and  shouted  so 
loudly  for  a  comic  song,  that  he  was  compelled  to  pass 
off  one  of  his  brass  band  for  the  original  Jacobs  !  and 
they  made  him  sing  "  Villikins  and  his  Dinah,"  and  "  I 
wouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  they  insist  upon  your 
standing  on  your  head,  and  doing  the  same  this  very  eve- 
ning. 

The  introduction  of  railroads  has  greatly  destroyed 
the  feature  of  country  life ;  and  it  may  be  readily  be- 
lieved the  drama  has  equally  shared  in  the  rapid  change 
that  has  affected  evei-y  branch  of  trade  or  profession.  I 
do  not  wish  to  infer  that  the  art  of  acting  is,  in  its  vitali- 
ty, injured  or  depreciated  in  places  where  a  taste  for  the 
better  class  of  amusement  ever  existed  at  all ;  but  I  do 
believe  that  the  rapid  increase  in  the  population  in 
newly  formed  cities,  produces  a  style  of  patrons  whose 
habits  and  associations  afford  no  opportunity  for  the 
cultivation  of  the  arts,  but,  in  the  thirst  for  acquiring 
money  leave  them  content  with  a  recreation  that  appeals 
only  to  their  visual  wants,  to  the  total  exclusion  of  the 
intellectual,  which  the  denizens  of  older  localities  yearn 
for  as  a  necessity. 

Before  the  progressive  change  above  described,  the 
country  actor  had  a  totally  distinct  characteristic  from 
those  who  were  the  favorites  of  the  city  establishments. 
He  was  gradually,  by  the  study  of  the  best  authors,  fitting 
himself  for  his  debut  before  those  who  were  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment upon  his  claims  to  the  occupancy  of  a  niche  in  the 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  203 

temple  of  dramatic  fame.  There  was  a  standard  of  excel- 
lence to  be  reached  ere  you  could  approach  that  much 
coveted  goal !  The  historian  who  shall  pen  the  rise  and 
fall  of  public  taste  during  the  last  twenty  years,  will  find 
ample  materials  for  the  exercise  of  his  thoughts,  and  the 
variety  of  the  subject. 

SALISBURY. 

Few  of  ray  professional  brethren  will  be  able  to  resist 
a  smile  at  the  reading  of  the  above  name. 

A  genial  man  was  Salisbury,  an  excellent  actor  and  an 
inveterate  practical  joker !  The  western  part  of  Amer- 
ica has  not  produced  a  greater  character  than  he  of 
whom  I  desire  to  speak. 

My  acquaintanceship  was  but  slight,  when  I  encoun- 
tered him  in  a  railroad  car  at  the  Detroit  depot,  bound 
for  Chicago.  Before  starting,  he  beckoned  me  in  a  secret 
and  suspicious  manner,  on  to  the  platform,  where  he  hur- 
riedly enquired.  If  I  had  purchased  my  ticket? 

"Certainly!"  replied  I. 

"Ah  !  "  he  continued,  "  I  never  do  that." 

"Don't  you,  indeed,"  I  added,  "  are  you  on  the  free 
list." 

"  Well, pretty  much  so,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  Oblige  me, 
don't  take  any  notice  of  me  through  the  entire  journey, 
until  we  reach  our  destination,  and  then  not  until  we  are 
clear  of  the  depot."  I  readily  yielded  to  his  request,  not 
without  some  curious  cogitations  in  regard  to  the  result. 

The  bell  rung  furiously,  the  inevitable  last  passenger 
is  with  his  baggage  pitched  into  the  car,  and  we  are  on 
the  way  for  the  city  of  wonderful  progress,  Chicago. 

We  got  on  a  few  miles,  when  the  conductor  made  us  ac- 
quainted with  his  presence  by  most  authoritatively  de- 
manding "  Tickets."  When  Salisbury  was  solicited  to 
satisfy  the    curiosity  of  this  functionary,  the    following 


204  FOOTLIGIIT   PLASHES. 

was  the  mode  in  wliich  the  attempt  was  made,  and  the 
result. 

Conductor.    Now,  Sir,  ticket  please. 

Salishicry.     (Apparently  unconscious.) 

Conductor.  (Passes  on,  but  presently  returns  and  re- 
peats the  previous  performance,)  Come,  neighbor,  I 
want  your  ticket. 

Salisbury.  (Exhibits  the  upper  part  of  his  face,  stares 
vacantly  around,  turns  over,  and  sleeps  again.) 

Passengers.  (Are  cogitating  on  the  result  of  these 
inattentions  to  such  polite  requests.) 

Conductor.  (Gets  more  anxious  to  close  up  his  ac- 
counts, and  gives  his  unconscious  passenger  another 
shake,  with  an  evident  show  of   temper.) 

Salisbury.  (Assumes  a  sitting  position  and  hands  con- 
ductor a  copy  of  an  evening  paper,  which  he  finds  he  has 
been  reposing  on.) 

Two  young  Ladies.     (Give  a  loud  laugh.) 

Conductor.  (Very  much  flurried,  and  looking  suspi- 
ciously at  the  two  females.) 

Conductor,  Now  come,  there's  been  enough  of  tliis. 
If  you  don't  show  your  ticket  I  shall  have  to  drop  you 
here  (raises  his  hand  to  the  check  line.) 

Elderly  person.  (Attached  to  the  cattle  interest,  ap- 
parently volunteei's  to  explain  to  the  gentleman  the  na- 
ture of  the  conductor's  demand,  bawling  in  S's  ear.)  lie 
wants  your  ticket  ! 

Salisbury.     (Still  incorrigible.) 

Conductor.  Here,  come !  Out  with  you  !  (Is  going 
to  suit  the  word  to  the  action,  —  when, ■) 

Somebody,  (or  something  wrapped  in  numerous  shawls 
interposes.)  Say,  look  here.  Conductor,  I'll  fix  him  all 
right,  leave  him  to  me. 

Conductor.  Are  you  in  his  company  ?  Does  anybody 
know  him  here  ? 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  205 

iVb  one  acknowledging  an  acquaintanceship,  concluctoi* 
is  about  to  carry  his  threat  into  execution,  laying  hands 
upon  the  incorrigible  passenger  for  that  purpose,  when 
Salisbury,  having  gathered  a  crowd  around  him,  got  upon 
his  feet,  and  with  a  pencil  wrote  upon  the  margin  of  a 
newspaper  the  following:  "I  regret  this  extremely.  I 
am  deprived  of  the  power  of  speech  to  express  my  situa- 
tion.    I  have  been  robbed  and  ill  used  by  sharpers." 

Conductor.  Well,  I  havn't  anything  to  do  with  this. 
I  want  your  fare.     Come  now  ! 

Duet.  (Two  Ladies.)  Oh  shameful !  poor  creature,  you 
wouldn't  surely  turn  a  man  out  on  such  a  night  as  this. 
Some  people  have  no  more  feeling  than  brutes ! 

Cattle  Dealer.  No,  nor  half  as  much  as  some  brutes. 
IIow  much  do  you  want  ? 

Conductor.  Why,  if  he  is  going  to  Chicago,  I  require 
such  a  sum,  (naming  it.) 

Lady.  (In  ringlets  very  much  disordered.)  Now  real- 
ly it's  too  bad.  I  guess  it  can  be  all  arranged  satisfactorily. 
I'm  sure  I'll  give  a  dollar  towards  the  amount  with  pleas- 
ure, rather  than  he  shall  be  expelled  from  the  car,  at  this 
distance  from  the  town,  too. 

Omnes.  Of  course,  I'll  give  something  too.  The  nec- 
essary sum  is  speedily  collected,  and  the  conductor  retires, 
after  receiving  his  fare,  and  an  addition  of  universal  dis- 
gust from  all  the  passengers. 

At  the  stations  where  we  alight  for  refreshments,  our 
hero  is  safely  conveyed  to  the  dining  hall  and  his  meal  paid 
for  by  one  or  other  of  his  fellow  travellers.  We  meet 
with  a  delay,  and  it  is  late  in  the  afternoon  before  we 
cross  the  long  trellis  work  bridge  skirting  Lake  Michigan, 
and  are  deposited  at  the  depot. 

Salisbury  was  speedily  upon  the  platform,  and  as  I 
looked  at  him  in  wonderment  I  see  him  raise  his  hat,  and 
in  the  most  bland  and  gentlemanly  manner  hear  him  de- 
liver his  adieu  to  his  fellow  voyagers  in  tliese  terms : 


206  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  cannot  find  words  to  ex- 
press my  sense  of  the  obligation  you  have  conferred  upon 
me.  I  shall  ever  consider  myself  your  grateful  debtor. 
Good  evening." 

SALISBURY    AND    THE    FEENCH    COOK. 

If  I  say  that  the  weather  was  hot,  I  shall  give  but  a  faint 
idea  of  the  summer  of  1854,  when  I  paid  my  first  visit  to 
Chicago,  to  find  that  dreadful  scourge,  the  cholera,  decima- 
ting the  population,  and  driving  all  those  whose  means 
and  leisure  served  them,  to  more  genial  dwelling  places. 

Our  hero  had  never  been  able  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  the 
world's  goods,  therefore  it  was  not  surprising  he  should  be 
driven  to  the  exercise  of  his  very  fertile  ingenuity  in  or- 
der to  appease  his  daily  wants. 

An  opportunity  presented  itself  the  morning  after  our 
arrival. 

A  rosy  little  Frenchman  was  preparing  breakfast  in  the 
kitchen  of  the  "  Young  America,"  and  as  he  scientifically 
tossed  his  omelets  and  warbled  his  snatches  of  song,  at- 
tracted the  willing  attention  of  our  adventurer  who,  with 
a  wistful  aspect,  was  admiring  the  operation  from  tlie 
window  which  abutted  upon  the  street.  Presently  their 
eyes  met,  and  they  smiled  in  unison.     Salisbury,  began, 

"You  sing  well,  Monseiur  !  " 

"  Oh,  sare,  you  too  good  !  much  oblige  !  " 

"  The  songs  of  your  native  land,  monseiui*,  are  charm- 
ing, hien  hon!  ! 

(With  a  shrug,  and  an  attempted  accent.  "  Oh,  sare," 
(bowing  low.) 

"  Fact.  I  assure  you !  I  know  no  country  that  can  ex- 
cel yours  in  the  extreme  beauty  of  its  ballads,  especially 
those  where  love  is  the  theme  ! 

"Ah!  oui !  ye  love  ballad!  magnifique!  you  come  in- 
side, sare." 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  207 

"  Thank  you,  I'm  tired,  I  will,"  and  speedily  Salisbury  is 
seated  in  the  kitchen.  A  few  more  compliments,  in  order 
to  bring  the  Frenchman  into  a  condition  sufficiently  im- 
pressible for  his  purpose,  and  our  hero  began  a  disser- 
tation upon  the  mystery  of  preparing  coffee,  at  which  he 
boldly  affirmed  he  was  ready  to  challenge  the  world. 

The  Gallic  pride  was  wounded  in  its  most  sensitive  part. 
His  prowess  had  never,  even  in  his  native  land,  been 
questioned,  and  now  to  have  the  shadow  of  doubt  cast 
upon  his  cuisine  by  a  stranger,  who  had  never  enjoyed 
the  pleasure  of  feasting  upon  viands  prepared  under  his 
masterly  direction,  was  a  serious  blow.  When  he  had 
somewhat  recovered  from  his  bewilderment,  he  continued 
in  as  good  English  as  he  could  collect  at  short  notice, 
"  Sare,  nion  amie,  you  say  mon  cafe  not  good  like  him 
vot  you  have  !  " 

"My  dear  fellow,"  rejoiued  S.  "  you  can  have  no  idea  of 
the  way  in  which  I  make  it,  and  the  secret  I  have  where- 
by I  defy  any  one  to  discover  how  it  is  accomplished." 

"Accomplish!  ah!  vat  is  dat  accomplish  you  put  in 
him  ?  sare,  tell  to  me,  you  never  taste  mon  cafe  ?  " 

"Never,"  said  S.  "but—" 

"  Oh !  mon  amie.  You  shall  see  vot  I  sail  give  to  you. 
Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  be  placed  upon  the  table 
a  cup  of  delicious  coffee,  with  ham,  and  omelet,  taking  a 
step  back  while  his  rival  sat  in  judgment  upon  its  quality. 

Our  hero  took  one  sip  at  the  coffee,  and  fixed  his  eye 
upon  the  Frenchman,  whose  visage  was  suffused  with  per- 
spiration and  anxiety. 

"  Capital,  monsieur,  very  good  indeed  !  "  (Rising,  and 
shaking  his  hand.)  This  is  excellent;  but  confess  now, 
you  are  not  always  as  fortunate  as  this." 

"  Vat  you  say,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Why,  your  coffee  is  not  always  as  good  as  it  is  this 
mornino;  ?  " 


208  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"  Oh  !  oui  !     How  long  you  stay  here  ?  " 

"  About  a  week,  perhaps  two  !  " 

"  You  shall  see,  monsieur,  come  ye  to-morrow  and  ye 
day  after  him,  and  you  shall  see  mon  cafe,  him  as  good,  ze 
same  to-morrow  as  it  is  ze  day  before,  always  ze  same!" 

"  Much  obliged,"  said  Salisbury,  bowing  himself  out, 
"  your  coffee  is  excellent.  I  had  no  idea  it  was  possible  to 
find  a  man  who  could  equal  me  at  coffee  !  " 

Punctually  at  eight  o'clock  every  morning,  for  the  next 
fortnight,  might  be  seen,  with  his  breakfast  before  him,  a 
cheerful,  ruddy  faced  man,  waited  upon  by  the  French 
cook,  whose  merry  laugh  bore  ample  testimony  to  the 
pleasure  he  derived  from  the  society  of  one  who,  but  for 
their  fortunate  meeting,  must  have  started  on  his  daily 
mission  with  an  empty  stomach. 

THE  LIGHT  COMEDIAN. 

Well  accoutred  for  an  attack  on  the  impressibility  of 
susceptible  female  nature,  our  subject  promenades  the 
most  flxshionable  quarters  of  the  city  at  a  period  of  the 
day  when  the  first  society  has  made  up  its  mind  to  in- 
spect the  stock  of  those  who  allure  you  with  articles  of 
costume  faultless  in  design,  and  fixbulous  in  cost.  In 
common  with  others  whom  the  gaudily  dressed  windows 
attract  within  their  precincts,  the  light  comedian  is  not 
proof  against  the  blandishment  of  the  last  consignment 
of  expensive  dry  goods  ;  it  may  be,  perhaps,  that  he  de- 
sires to  contemplate  the  purchase  of  some  article  that 
may  have  taken  his  fancy ;  or  it  is  just  possible  he  has 
heard  a  pair  of  sweet  lips  utter  his  name,  as  she  is  alight- 
ing from  her  cai-riage.  She  is  in  company  with  two  con- 
genial spirits  who  have  often  witnessed  the  professional 
exertions  of  our  hero,  when,  after  being  expelled  from 
the  dwelling  of  his  inamorata  on  three  distinct  and  sep- 
arate occasions,  he  has  triumphantly,  in  the  disguise  of  a 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  209 

domestic,  returned  and  carried  off  the  object  ot  his  affec- 
tion to  the  nearest  clergyman. 

What  a  source  of  attraction  he  is  to  them !  How  much 
they  would  like  to  address  him,  but  dread  the  imprudence 
of  such  a  step  !  IIow  unconscious  he  is  —  or  appears  to 
he  —  as  he  turns  suddenly  to  meet  their  gaze,  then  slow- 
ly moA'es  off  with  the  satisfaction  of  one  who  believes 
himself  somewhat  above  the  common,  every-day  stock, 
which  nature  has  disposed  in  its  wisdom  for  the  propa- 
gation of  the  human  race. 

Not  alone  do  the  fair  sex  look  with  an  eye  of  pleasure 
upon  the  light  comedian.  Men  may  not  unfrequently  be 
seen  to  nudge  each  other  as  he  j^asses  them,  adding  some 
remarks  upon  his  professional  capability  in  the  last  sensa- 
tional production  in  which  he  has  taken  an  important 
part. 

The  progress  of  photography  has  deposited  his  re- 
semblance with  plentiful  alacrity  in  all  the  more  eligible 
positions,  and  in  the  most  graceful  attitudes ;  while  any 
alteration  in  his  hirsute  embellishments  becomes  imme- 
diately the  city's  talk. 

Epistolary  effusions  of  a  warm  and  tender  tone  occa- 
sionally beset  him,  from  all  kinds  of  people,  and  couched 
in  every  kind  of  style,  from  the  rose-tinted  and  highly 
perfumed  satin  paper  with  its  adhesive  fastening  of  the 
quiver  of  the  god  of  love,  to  the  more  practical  business 
stationery  of  the  milliner,  or  skirt  factory. 

Wonder  not,  dear  reader,  that  the  crime  of  vanity  be 
sometimes  laid  to  his  charge;  for  who  amongst  you  could 
escape  the  stigma  with  such  an  array  of  admirers  as  he  — 
in  virtue  of  his  oflice  —  draws  around  him.  On  the  stage, 
he  is  invested  by  the  dramatist  with  virtues  of  the  high- 
est class,  and  a  spirit  of  reckless  effrontery  highly  palata- 
ble to  the  taste  of  the  fair  sex,  whose  nature  off  the  stage 
as  well  as  upon  it,  yearns  to  exhibit  its  prowess  in  sub- 


210  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

duing  the  exuberance  of  manly  folly,  and  the  turbulence 
of  unsystematic  youth. 

Pending  the  production  of  a  drama  wherein  our  hero 
is  to  represent  a  noble  of  the  court  of  France,  at  a  time 
when  that  country  was  revelling  in  the  enjoyment  of  un- 
interrupted pleasure,  he  may  be  seen  in  the  wardrobe, 
holding  conference  with  the  designer  of  costumes  on  the 
most  becoming  blending  of  colors  ;  illustrating  his  views 
by  a  sketch  of  a  noble  of  that  period  clad  in  all  the  par- 
aphernalia of  regal  splendor.  There  is  an  earnest  desire 
ou  the  part  of  the  proprietor  of  the  theatre  to  look  with 
the  most  economical  eye  upon  the  wants  of  the  approach- 
ing new  drama,  and  the  light  comedian  is  assured  by  the 
costumer,  that  the  material  he  would  like  to  habit  himself 
in  will  far  exceed  in  costliness  the  rate  as  "  per  his  in- 
structions," or,  as  he  quaintly  expresses  it, 

"  The  governor  wouldn't  go  that,  not  at  no  price,  he's 
sure ! " 

To  ordinary  people,  this  would  seem  to  be  conclusive, 
that  our  hero  must  be  content  with  the  scale  of  expense 
as  set  down  by  that  infallible  autocrat,  "  The  manager," 
but  it  does  nevertheless  happen,  that  when  the  play  shall 
be  presented  to  the  public,  he  will  carry  off  the  palm  for 
the  splendor  of  his  costume  as  well  as  for  the  satisfactory 
rendition  of   the  character. 

With  becoming  grace  does  he  confer  the  usual  civilities 
of  every  day  life  to  all  who  encounter  him  in  the  course 
of  business  contact ;  and  not  unfrequently,  will  exhibit 
a  fondness  for  sports  requiring  an  immense  amount  of 
l^hysical  endurance,  scarcely  compatible  with  the  public's 
preconceived  notions,  from  the  medium  they  have  been 
accustomed  to  contemplate  him. 

When  the  announcement  is  duly  put  forth  in  the  daily 
papers,  that  the  public  can  have  the  pleasure  of  assisting  at 
his  annual  benefit  about  to  take  place,  he  is  speedily  over- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  21  1 

charged  with  missives  requesting  that  certain  boxes,  and 
eligible  positions  for  seeing  and  hearing,  be  retained  for 
the  use  of  the  subscriber,  with  kindly  expressions  of  hope 
that  the  affair  might  be  a  genuine  ovation  of  pleasure  and 
profit. 

Perspective  mothers,  as  well  as  those  who  have  long 
assumed  the  dignity  of  maternal  cares,  vie  with  each  other 
to  render  homage  at  the  shrine  of  their  favorite  ;  while 
their  cavaliers  exert  all  their  interest  to  make  the  occas- 
ion one  of  the  genuine  successes  of  the  season.  And  when 
these  mysterious  boxes,  which  outside  innocency  believes 
to  be  impregnable,  ai-e  disclosed  to  the  delighted  gaze  of 
the  recii)ient,  the  vouchers  assure  hira  of  the  esteem  in 
which  his  exertions  are  regarded.  He  counts  his  gains 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  received  his  proper  quota 
of  the  public  consideration ;  or  if  he  be  of  a  selfish  na- 
ture, ponders  on  what  an  increase  might  have  found  its 
way  into  his  private  coffers,  if  a  powerful  attraction  else- 
where had  not  occurred  on  that  very  evening,  or  an  an- 
tagonistic influence  had  not  been  exerted  to  his  disadvan- 
tage, by  copious  showers  of  rain  throughout  the  entire 
day. 

The  exponents  of  the  broader  kinds  of  comedy  find 
little,  or  no  favor  in  his  esteem.  He  is  ill-disposed  to 
award  them  the  meed  of  approval  the  public  voice  would 
seem  to  consider  their  just  due.  Not  that  he  is  insensi- 
ble to  the  necessity  of  their  introduction  into  the  dramatis 
personce,  but  the  means  usually  employed  by  the  dramatist 
involves  an  association  with  the  influences  of  persons  who 
move  in  the  lower  walks  of  life,  by  no  means  congenial 
to  the  surroundings  of  one  who  is  constantly  called  upon 
to  present  living  pictures  of  the  highest  toned  people, 
whose  idiosyncrasy,  by  a  natural  coarse  of  attrition,  give 
him  incalculable  advantage  towards  the  fulfillment  of  a 
high  moral  and  consequential  destiny. 


212  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

When  he  lays  aside  his  professional  armor  for  the 
customary  recess,  he  repairs  to  some  spot  redolent  with 
the  presence  of  youthful  beauty  and  matui'ed  independ- 
ence —  there,  by  the  exigency  which  a  void  in  the  male 
population  sometimes  produces,  will  he  find  himself  in 
frequent  companionship  with  some  of  his  greatest  admir- 
ers, whose  regard  for  him  and  the  art  he  so  much  adorns, 
make  them  supremely  delighted  at  the  pleasure  of  mak- 
ing his  acquaintance ;  though  the  idea  has  never  before 
occurred  to  them,  till,  being  stranded  upon  the  dreary 
waste  of  their  own  invention,  they  clutch  at  a  rescue 
with  an  affected  sincerity  too  transparent  for  the  meanest 
capacity  to  pass  unnoticed. 

It  may  be  that  the  persuasive  tones  of  the  light  com- 
edian are  at  times  remembered  as  they  were  wont  to  be 
uttered  when  he  swore,  in  the  last  new  drama,  to  "Break 
through  all  edicts,  no  matter  by  Avhom  issued,  and  boldly 
thunder  at  the  portals  of  his  father's  castle,  till  the  rever- 
beration should  topple  its  proprietor  from  his  seat,  that 
Angeline  should  be  his,  and  his  alone,  ere  the  sun  should 
again  present  his  reflective  presence  upon  the  apex  of 
the  building." 

Or  it  may  be,  that  a  totally  difierent  sentiment  is  upper- 
most in  the  female  breast,  and  prompts  one  lonely 
possessor  to  seek  a  defender  in  the  person  of  our  hero ; 
who  surreptitiously  sacrificing  himself  on  her  behalf,  be- 
comes the  author  of  several  blooming  pledges  of  mutual 
affection  most  zealously  cherished  by  one  who  is  regard- 
ed with  a  feeling  of  sorrow  by  those  whose  antecedents 
may  have  graced  the  pages  of  a  criminal  register  for 
misappropriation  of  valuables  not  their  own  personal 
property,  but  who  cannot  readily  recover  from  the  social 
disaster  that  the  friend  of  their  youth,  whose  hand  had 
been  solicited  by  many  well  skilled  in  the  aptitude  for 
municipal  peculations,  should  have  devoted  the  balance 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  213 

of  her  days  to  so  indefinite  a  circumstance  as  the  Light 
Comedian. 

A   VERY   LONG    SONG. 

In  what  has  been  proudly  termed  the  palmy  days  of 
the  drama,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  lived  a  worthy  and  ami- 
able gentleman  whose  name  was  Cobb.  The  sea  was 
his  occupation,  and  he  commanded  a  packet  ship,  sailing 
between  Liverpool  and  New  York.  The  theatre  was  his 
great  delight,  and  when  in  port  he  was  a  constant  patron. 

One  evening,  prior  to  his  date  for  sailing,  he  entered 
the  Park  Theatre,  and  while  there,  was  accosted  by  some 
friends,  who  invited  him  to  sup  with  them.  The  ofier 
was  accepted,  and  they  quitted  the  building  at  the  very 
moment  when  Mr.  Peter  Richings  was  in  the  act  of  sing- 
ing a  patriotic  song,  and  waving  his  sword  in  the  most 
approved  manner. 

The  captain  departed  on  his  voyage,  and  on  his  arrival 
in  Liverpool  was  dispatched  to  China,  and  did  not  return 
to  New  York  for  nearly  three  years.  The  first  visit  he 
made  when  he  reached  the  city,  was  to  the  theatre  ;  there, 
to  his  great  astonishment,  was  Richings,  in  precisely  the 
same  attitude  he  had  left  him  at  his  departure. 

Turning  to  a  friend  who  accompanied  him,  he  said  : 

"  Well,  by  thunder !  if  that  isn't  the  longest  song  I 
ever  did  hear ;  Richings  was  at  it  three  years  since.  I've 
been  nearly  round  the  world,  and  darned  if  he's  got 
through  it  yet." 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

My  speculative,  and  active  instruments. 

Othello.     Act  1.  Scene  3. 

THE    SCIENCE  OF  TICKET    SPECULATION. 

Three  or  four  of  these  events  in  a  season,  will  secure  a 
very  acceptable  sum  to  him  who  is  skilled  in  the  method 
of  taking  advantage  of  the  popular  greediness  for  novelty. 
An  excitement  is  gotten  up  at  the  retirement  of  some 
prominent  member  of  the  profession,  who,  if  it  be  of  the 
male  sex,  is  about  to  quit  the  scene  of  his  numerous 
achievements,  to  repose  upon  his  well-earned  laurels.  If 
a  lady,  she  is  probably  about  to  be  led  to  the  hymeneal 
altar  by  some  one  distinguished  in  the  political  or  com- 
mercial world  ;  and  the  public  have,  by  the  outside  pres- 
sure of  social  influence,  been  called  upon  to  bear  in  mind 
that  one  of  brilliant  talent  and  unspotted  virtue,  is  about 
to  be  torn  from  their  fond  caresses,  and  borne  for  ever 
from  their  sight.  The  said  public  peruses  its  favorite 
journal,  and  suddenly  becomes  conscious  of  the  extent 
of  its  deprivation,  and  cannot  possibly  refrain  making  one 
at  the  approaching  leave  taking. 

This  is  the  time  when  the  ticket  speculator  distinguish- 
es himself  He  watches  the  temperature  of  the  public 
appetite.  He  and  his  aids  purchase  large  quantities  of 
the  best  places,  as  soon  as  the  doors  are  opened.  The 
manager  is  suspicious  that  an  imposition  is  about  to  be 
practised  upon  his  patrons,  the  public  ;  and  such  a  course 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  215 

of  proceeding  being  entirely  beyond  the  thoughts  or  de- 
sires of  managerial  rectitude,  issues  a  notice  to  the  effect 
that  "  The  public  be  cautioned  against  the  purchase  of 
tickets  of  admission  from  speculators  in  the  streets  ;  none 
being  genuine,  save  those  procured  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  box  office," 

The  speculator  laughs  the  above  proclamation  to  scorn, 
and  Avith  his  aids  patiently  watches  the  time  when  the 
best  seats  are  all  secured.  It  is  then  he  approaches  the  ex- 
pectant pleasure  seeker  with  the  information  that  he  has 
a  few  choice  locations  he  can  dispose  of  at  a  reasonable 
per  centage  on  the  oi'iginal  outlay.  The  individual  ad- 
dressed passes  him  with  the  remembrance  of  the  prohibi- 
tion in  the  morning  paj^ers,  and  applies  at  the  office  for 
three  seats  for  his  party,  and  is  assured  that  the  back  row 
at  the  left  hand  side  is  the  only  thing  he  has  to  offer. 
A  blank  astonishment  suffuses  the  face  of  the  enquirer 
as  he  consults  his  watch,  and  expresses  his  surprise,  that 
being  only  three  quarters  of  an  hour  after  the  time  of 
opening  the  office  for  the  sale  of  tickets,  he  should  be  so 
unfortunate. 

The  treasurer  says  he  is  very  sorry,  but  does  not  look 
particularly  distressed  about  the  matter;  and  makes  the 
rejected  offer  to  the  next  customer  who,  being  from  a 
rural  district,  is  content  to  take  the  best  he  can  get.  The 
disappointed  one  moves  a  short  distance  away,  and  re- 
volves in  his  mind  the  consequences  of  defeat.  He  has,  in 
a  moment  of  social  delight,  promised  the  charming  Eve- 
lina that  she  and  her  mamma  shall  be  escorted  by  him  on 
the  forthcoming  interesting  event,  and  to  place  them  in 
a  back  seat,  where  his  enviable  monopoly  of  the  prettiest 
girl  in  town  could  not  excite  the  envy  of  every  fellow  he 
knew,  would  be  positively  awful !  Further,  as  he  had  at 
no  very  distant  day  the  fond  hope  of  becoming  the  pos- 
sessor of  the   lovely  one,  it  might  do  him  an  irreparable 


216  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

injury  in  the  eyes  of  her  maternal  parent,  should  it  ever 
become  known  that  a  few  paltry  dollars  had  stood  in  the 
way  of  the  purchase. 

"  Better  take  'em  sir,"  says  a  voice  close  to  his  ear. 

"How  much?"  timidly  enquires  he. 

"Twelve  shillings  each,  sir?" 

«  What !  " 

"  Why,  sir,  they'll  be  well  worth  two  dollars  this  after- 
noon, —  or  if  I  keep  them  till  to-morrow,  and  take  them 
to  the  St.  Nicholas,  I  can  get  twenty  shillings  at  the 
office  there." 

This  being  unanswerable,  the  money  is  paid  over,  the 
cheques  for  seats  duly  received,  and  the  transaction  realizes 
a  clear  profit  of  three  dollars. 

The  next  is  a  youth  of  ardent  temperament,  also  on 
the  high  road  to  a  matrimonial  connection  with  a  charm- 
ino-  young  lady,  who,  having,  as  she  believes,  some  taste 
in  matters  of  costume,  and  the  assurance  of  her  dress 
maker  that  no  one  of  her  numerous  customers  have  been 
so  faultlessly  designed  by  nature  for  the  display  of  an 
elegant  toilet,  makes  frequent  donations  to  society  by  in- 
dulging it  with  an  exposition  of  her  elegant  person,  the 
same  being  more  a  matter  of  concern  to  her  than  the  en- 
joyment of  the  entertainment  itself 

The  speculator,  who  is  somewhat  of  a  physiognomist, 
can  read  his  wants  and  desires,  and  negotiates  a  very 
satisfactory  sale  as  in  the  former  case. 

This  is  the  modus  operandi  in  the  more  simplified  por- 
tion of  the  profession.  The  scientific  method  of  efiecting 
large  profits  is  much  more  intricate,  and  involves  a  greater 
amount  of  judgment  than  the  mere  tyro  in  the  business 
can  easily  accomplish. 

I  know  a  party  who  admitted  to  me,  that  on  one  occa- 
sion, in  the  city  of  New  York,  he  cleared  nearly  four 
hundred  dollars  by  premiums  on  boxes  and  seats.     He 


FOOTLTGHT    FLASnES.  217 

was  a  man  well  skilled  in  all  the  minutise  in  creating 
excitements  and  keeping  his  victims  at  fever  heat  while 
there  was  a  possibility  of  a  beneficial  result  accruing  by 
the  operation.  He  had  traversed  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land  with  every  novelty,  from  the  brilliant  soprano 
and  the  mellifluous  tenor,  to  the  bearded  lady.  He  is 
well  known  on  town,  speaks  two  or  three  languages, 
English  the  most  imperfectly,  and  was  indebted  for  his 
advent  into  this  world  to  a  race  whose  shrewdness  in  the 
science  of  driving  a  bargain,  leaves  the  Yankee  trader  a 
long  way  beyond  the  confines  of  competition.  He  is 
well  accredited  at  all  places  of  amusement,  whether 
operatic,  dramatic,  equestrian,  or  Ethiopian,  and  is  person- 
ally familiar  with  every  person  of  importance  and  good 
standing  in  the  city. 

In  the  course  of  his  manipulations,  he  confers  extensive 
patronage  on  several  persons  who  are  indispensably 
necessai'y  to  the  successful  completion  of  his  j^lans.  It 
not  unfreq.uently  happens  that  the  party  who  may  be 
about  to  tear  him  or  herself  from  the  public  gaze,  will 
employ  him  to  take  charge  of  the  pecuniary  j)ortion  of 
the  leave  taking  ;  awarding  him  a  liberal  percentage  and 
a  handsome  keepsake,  for  his  judicious  managerial  dis 
play. 

In  the  ordinary  case  all  the  best  boxes  and  seats  are 
secured  several  days  prior  to  the  date  of  the  entertain- 
ment. What  is  to  be  done  ?  Mr.  Cent-per-cent  and 
family  must  be  there,  and  is  compelled  to  place  himself 
in  communication  with  our  friend,  who  will  of  cour-c, 
with  his  extensive  dramatic  and  musical  influence,  be 
able  to  suggest  a  means  whereby  his  desires  can  be  grati- 
fied. 

Agent  is  regularly  on  the  alert,  and  fully  aware  of  Mr. 
Cent-per-cent's  dilemma.     He  is  appealed  to,  can  see  no 
remedy  at  present ;  but  will  make  enquiry  of  the  party 
10 


218  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

who  has  rented  the  choice  box,  and  endeavor  to  effect 
some  satisfactory  arrangement.  The  morning  of  the  play 
arrives,  Mr.  Cent-per-cent  will  willingly  give  twenty-five 
dollars  sooner  than  be  disappointed.  Agent,  or  specula- 
tor, says  he  has  called  on  the  parties,  whom  he  thinks  may 
be  induced  to  vacate,  but  that  he,  the  speculator,  will 
have  to  effect  some  counterchange  of  places  at  much  cost 
and  trouble.  "  Never  mind  the  expense  "  rejoins  the  an?c- 
ious  millionaire,  "  if  it  can  be  done." 

The  evening  arrives  !  Speculator  watches  his  party 
as  they  pay  for  their  ordinary  admission  tickets,  as  agreed 
npon.  He  joins  them  at  the  back  of  the  boxes,  and  re- 
quests they  will  follow  him.  They  reach  the  box.  Spec- 
ulator knocks,  and  the  door  is  opened  by  a  gentleman 
gotten  up  regardless  of  consequences.  A  conversation 
is  carried  on  to  the  effect  that  "  it  is  very  unpleasant, 
don't  like  to  refuse,  ladies,  etc.,  shall  expect  some  good 
seats  elsewhere ! "  Speculator  gives  the  required  as- 
surance —  deposed  party  vacate,  —  while  the  reigning 
usurpers  assume  their  seats,  Mr.  Cent-per-cent  places,  un- 
seen, into  the  ready  hand  of  the  speculator,  bills  to  the 
amount  of  twenty-five  dollars,  feeling  happy  to  pay  a 
good  premium  for  so  comfortable  and  elegant  a  location ; 
but  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  five  dollars  was 
disbursed  by  the  speculator  himself  for  the  said  box ; 
and  that  the  gentlemen  who  had  occupied  it,  M^ere  placed 
there  only  till  an  eligible  customer  with  a  large  profit  in 
perspective,  should  present  himself. 

Where  the  ceremony  of  securing  seats  is  not  pursued, 
but  every  person  takes  the  best  he  can  find,  it  is  no  less 
profitable  to  the  speculator,  and  is  accomplished  in  this 
manner.  A  certain  number  of  aids  are  provided  with 
the  means  of  admission,  and  take  up  their  position  at  the 
doors  long  before  the  crowd  present  themselves.  When 
the  rush  comes,  they  are  all  in  the  choice  seats  before  the 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  219 

eager  ones  can  obtain  their  checks,  because  they  are  all 
provided  with  tickets.  The  house  fills  speedily,  and  the 
speculator  watches  the  late  comers,  fresh  from  the  hands 
of  the  accomplished  peruquier,  as  they  regard  with  looks 
of  bewilderment  the  crowds  that  obstruct  his  view  of  the 
stage.  Speculator  gets  into  conversation,  refers  to  the 
large  numbers  present.  Victim  feels  sorry  he  didn't  pro- 
cure places  by  some  means,  expects  a  lady  and  gentle- 
man friend,  who  were  to  meet  him  there,  —  he  had  promis- 
ed to  be  there  early  but  was  detained.  Speculator  says  he 
had  anticipated  the  sale  of  three  seats,  which  he  has  taken 
from  a  friend  who  had  lost  his  mother,  and  couldn't  come, 
that  he  had  paid  two  dollars  each  for  them,  and  would 
now  willingly  dispose  of  them  for  five  dollars,  sooner 
than  be  stuck  with  them  !  Victim  sees  a  good  opportu- 
nity of  redeeming  his  character  for  promptness,  and  offers 
readily  to  hand  over  the  required  amount,  as  his  friends 
are  seen  forcing  their  way  down  the  passsge.  Speculator 
requests  them  to  follow  him,  holds  up  three  fingers,  when 
the  like  number  of  eligible  occupants  in  the  front  row 
immediately  give  place  to  the  newly  arrived  trio,  and  the 
speculator  realizes  a  profit  of  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents. 

THE    WALKING    GENTLEMAN. 

"Havel  been  called?"  is  a  question  not  unfrequently 
propounded  to  the  first  professional  associate  the  walking 
gentleman  may  encounter,  as  he  makes  his  way  towards 
the  stage  some  minutes  after  the  appointed  time  for  the 
commencement  of  rehearsal.  Receiving  an  answer  in  the 
afiirmative,  he  will  quicken  his  pace,  silently  perusing  his 
part,  till  summoned  by  the  call  boy  to  repeat  it  in  the 
presence  of  the  stage  manager. 

It  is  not  without  considerable  difficulty  our  hero  has 
been  able  to  tear  himself  from  his  downy  pillow,  after  a 
very  limited  companionship,  caused  by  his   pi'esence  the 


220  POOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

preceding  night  at  a  convivial  gathering  of  the  youth  of 
both  sexes.  Little  did  he  think,  while  hastily  preparing 
his  toilet  for  the  day,  that  he  had  lacerated  a  female  heart, 
now  throbbing  with  its  first  attack  of  wretchedness  ;  and 
whose  anguish  could  never  be  assuaged,  until  it  was  duly 
considered  the  exclusive  property  of  the  aforesaid  walk- 
ing gentleman.  So  satisfied,  indeed,  was  the  owner  of 
the  lacerated  member  aforesaid,  that  it  confided  to  a  con- 
genial female  spirit  the  startling  disclosure  of  its  fixed  in- 
tention to  quit,  for  an  indefinite  period,  its  painful  exist- 
ence, in  the  event  of  opposition  to  its  wishes  ;  and  fur- 
ther, that  any  attempt  to  dissuade  it  from  its  purpose 
would  meet  with  speedy  resistance  and  contempt. 

The  dramatist  must  be  considered  as  an  accessory  be- 
fore the  fact,  when  he  supplies  the  facilities  for  a  foray 
upon  female  nature ;  and  the  crime  is  doubly  reprehensi- 
ble, when  the  exponent  of  the  author's  ideas  is  blessed 
with  a  handsome  face,  and  symmetrical  form. 

The  walking  gentleman  has  apartments  not  far  from 
the  theatre,  where,  after  dinner,  you  will  find  him  with 
one  or  two  members  of  the  company,  discussing  the  gen- 
eral topics  of  the  day,  as  well  as  the  quality  of  the  parts 
he  has  been  called  upon,  in  the  course  of  his  experience, 
to  personate. 

"  Why,  sir,  it  was  fourteen  lengths,  if  it  was  a  line  ;  and 
not  a  scene  that  wasn't  a  comi^lete  feeder  from  beginning 
to  end. 

"Well,  sir,  I  studied  it  letter  perfect  from  the  night 
before,  never  missed  a  word,  either,  at  rehearsal,  or  at  the 
performance  ;  and  the  author  never  felt  grateful,  or  if  he 
did,  he  never  expressed  himself  in  terms  to  that  effect." 

"  Perhaps  he  didn't  imagine,  from  his  knowledge  of  the 
extent  or  quality  of  the  favor  conferred,  that  a  return  for 
what  you  conceive  to  be  an  obligation,  was  due  in  any 
case,"  chimes  in  a  timid  youth,  with  an  unusual  quantity 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  -  221 

of  hair,  and  whoso  appearance  upon  the  stage,  is  always 
ridiculed  by  the  audience. 

"  Thank  you,  Charley,"  says  our  hero,  "  if  you  could 
only  be  as  clever  on  the  stage,  as  you  affect  to  be  off  it, 
you'd  soon  be  at  the  summit  of  the  profession.  The  next 
time  you  stick,  in  the  second  act,  don't  expect  me  to  take 
it  up,  and  cover  your  stupidity,  for  I'll  be  shot  if  I  do  it." 

Not  much  abashed  by  this  rebuke,  the  timid  youth,  after 
relighting  his  cigar,  returns  to  the  charge  with  redoubled 
zeal,  and  assures  the  company  that  our  hero  has  some  lit- 
tle cause,  at  this  particular  juncture,  to  be  down  upon 
him,  inasmuch  as  he  had  lately  suj)planted  him  in  the 
affections  of  a  young  lady,  who  was  passing  fair  to  look 
upon ;  and  whose  paternal  parent  was  plentifully  encum- 
bered with  the  spondulicks. 

Those  of  my  readers  whose  means  enable  them  to  in- 
dulge in  a  suite  of  apartments,  with  all  the  necessary  ac- 
companiments of  elegance  and  display,  must  readily  ad- 
mit that  there  are  more  tidy  looking  places  than  the  bed- 
room of  an  actor,  wherein  he  has  to  store  his  wardrobe, 
professional  and  domestic.  The  curious  can  find  ample 
material  for  enquiry,  by  a  close  inspection  of  this  apart- 
ment. It  is  summer  time,  and  the  windows  are  open  to 
admit  the  air.  Its  occupants  have  disposed  themselves  in 
every  imaginable  manner,  and  are  smoking  fearfully.  Our 
hero,  very  sparingly  clad,  reclines  upon  the  bed,  his 
nether  extremities  dangling  over  the  foot  board.  The 
chairs  being  the  posts  of  honor,  arc  allotted  to  the  two 
gentlemen  boarders,  who  are  engaged  in  mercantile  pur- 
suits. They  are  constant  patrons  of  the  theatre,  and 
ever  anxious  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  those  whom 
they  have  admired  behind  the  footlights.  One  of  them 
has  a  great  inclination  to  become  an  actor,  and  has  al- 
ready, by  stealth,  taken  part  in  an  amateur  performance  ; 
but  his  mother,  being  a  strict,  and  very  devout  patron  of 


222  FOOTLIGHT  FLASHES. 

the  tenets  laid  down  by  Whitfield  and  his  disciples,  would 
never  permit  one  of  her  kith  and  kin  to  engage  himself 
in  so  profane  a  calling. 

Articles  having  a  strong  dramatic  affinity  occupy  every 
portion  of  the  room,  obtruding  themselves  from  all  points 
of  sight.  From  the  walls  hang  one  Roman  and  one  regi- 
mental sword,  a  pair  of  yellow  morocco  boots,  a  pair  of 
foils,  a  black  velvet  hat ;  a  few  play  bills  and  prints  in  litho- 
graph, forming  the  chief  decoration.  The  chimney  piece 
is  laden  with  books,  and  written  parts  of  plays,  cigars, 
match-box,  two  ball  tickets,  the  daguerreotype  of  a  lady 
with  a  profusion  of  dark  ringlets,  and  a  pair  of  boxing 
gloves. 

The  afternoon  is  far  advanced,  when  one  of  the  party 
desires  to  excuse  himself,  for  he  has  a  part  to  read,  and 
his  things  to  look  out,  and  must  be  going.  He  has,  how- 
ever, scarcel}^  quitted  the  apartment,  when  a  voice  salutes 
him  with  a  request  that  he  will  not  forget  the  bald  wig 
he  loaned  the  previous  evening,  as  also  a  red  ostrich 
feather,  with  boot  tops,  and  sword  chain,  all  of  which  he 
assures  the  borrower  are  to  be  found  on  his  dressing  place 
in  his  room  at  the  theatre. 

The  personnel  of  our  hero  is  quite  up  to  the  mark  to 
satisfy  the  most  exacting  of  the  opposite  sex.  It  is  true, 
there  are  those  among  men  who  are  always  at  a  loss  to 
perceive  how  their  female  acquaintance  can  make  him  the 
subject  of  their  approval ;  but,  as  these  are  somewhat 
proud  of  their  own  claims  to  the  monopoly  of  the  ladies' 
favors,  their  opinions  should  be  received  with  caution 
and  misgiving. 

Beyond  tlie  j^rofessional  circle  in  which  he  radiates, 
our  subject  has  less  distinct  characteristics  than  perhaps 
any  of  his  brethren.  The  ornamental  portion  of  the 
theatre  is  mostly  divided  between  the  tragedian,  the  light 
comedian,  and  himself  j  and  in  proiDortion  as  nature  has 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  223 

been  lavisli  in  her  gifts,  is  he  the  object  of  attention  with 
the  fair  sex. 

Outside  the  theatre,  and  within  the  seclusion  of  the 
strictest  confidence,  does  he,  without  being  cognizant  of 
the  proud  distinction,  enjoy  the  honor  of  having  his  per- 
sonal qualifications  the  frequent  theme  of  admiration  by 
the  ladies,  who,  at  his  benefit,  will  muster  in  strong  force 
to  evince  their  appreciation  of  his  histrionic  ability  and 
attractive  person.  Not  only  will  he  be  the  recipient  of  a 
substantial  testimonial,  but  anonymous  gifts  will  perhaps 
flow  in  from  admirers  who  desire,  in  their  own  way,  to 
show  their  afiection  and  esteem. 

The  walking  gentleman  is  usually  the  worst  paid  mem- 
ber of  the  theatre.  His  outlay  for  necessary  costumes , 
should  entitle  him  to  one  of  the  most  liberal  emoluments 
in  the  establishment ;  but  it  is  very  rare  that  his  income 
equals  that  of  others  whose  expenses  for  presentable 
properties  and  apparel  fall  for  short  of  those  demanded 
by  the  subject  of  our  sketch.  This  is  the  only  reason  we 
can  assign  for  his  general  disinclination  to  remain  as  the 
exponent  of  those  very  necessary  parts  of  the  dramatis 
'personce;  but  eagerly  seizes  the  first  opportunity  to  ob- 
tain a  more  elevated  position,  for  the  pui-pose  of  increas- 
ing his  pecuniary  consequence,  not  unfrequently  to  the 
serious  disadvantage  of  the  very  best  works. 

So  long  as  our  hero  has  the  good  fortune  to  retain  his 
youthful  appearance,  he  is  eagerly  sought  after  by  mana- 
gers who  have  an  eye  to  the  tout  ensemble  of  their  pro- 
ductions, but  when  obesity  exerts  its  sway,  and  ruthlessly 
destroys  the  romantic  form  that  has  so  often  pined  in  the 
anguish  of  unrequited  love  or  parental  opposition,  then 
must  he  look  back  to  his  days  of  conquest  of  female 
nature,  and  —  painful  though  it  be  —  confess  that  he  must 
read  up  for  the  more  adaptable  position  of  the  heavy 
business. 


224  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

THE    DRAMATIC     -WASHINGTON. 

That  necessary  adjunct  of  the  theatre,  "The  supers," 
have,  from  time  immemorial,  been  the  source  of  extreme 
amusement  to  dramatic  audiences  ;  the  more  youthful  of 
whom  delight  to  assail  them,  should  they  be  left  alone 
upon  the  boards,  by  the  appellation  of  "supe,"  which  op- 
probrious epithet  they  generally  bear  with  a  martyrdom 
extremely  praiseworthy.  The  indifference  they  invari- 
ably exhibit  to  the  startling  incidents  going  forward 
around  them,  is  a  striking  exemplification  of,  either  the 
profound  contempt  they  entertain  for  the  profession  into 
which  chance  has  thrown  them,  or  the  equanimity  of  a 
temperament  that  cannot  sufier  itself  to  be  disturbed  by 
events  of  a  suppositious  character. 

It  was  an  opinion  very  freely  expressed  by  an  old  man- 
ager of  mine,  "  that  supers  were  the  pest  of  his  dramatic 
life  ; "  for,  he  was  accustomed  to  urge,  "  expend  as  much 
money  as  you  will  in  costumes,  import  trappings  and  ha- 
biliments direct  from  the  hands  of  the  most  skillful  man- 
ufiicturers,  and  when  you  have  done  all  this,  your  hair 
will  stand  on  end,  when  you  behold  the  terrible  result. 
One  will  present  himself  with  a  polished  steel  helmet  the 
wa-ong  side  in  front,  or  a  colored  cravat  will  peer  beneath 
the  splendid  gorget  of  another.  Not  alone  is  your  sense 
of  propriety  shocked  at  these,  and  similar  acts  of  absurdi- 
ty ;  but,  despite  the  efibrts  of  the  super  master,  they  will 
occasionally  present  themselves  at  most  unseasonable 
times  and  places,  such  as  resting  one  of  their  legs  over 
the  arm  of  the  king's  chair,  or  expose  their  head  and 
shoulders  behind  the  scenic  compartments  of  a  transpar- 
ent lake,  where  they  are  sure  to  be  saluted  with  a  boist- 
erous recognition  from  the  audience. 

An  accomplished  actor,  well  known  in  his  profession, 
has  labored  for  many  years  under  the  conviction  that, 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  225 

when  appropriately  costumed,  none  can  so  much  resemble 
the  Father  of  his  Country,  as  himself.  When  regularly 
made  up  for  the  part,  he  is  disinclined  to  reply  to  ques- 
tions of  a  trivial  nature,  assigning  as  a  reason,  "  that  it 
distracts  his  mind  from  the  position  into  which  the  as- 
sumption has  elevated  him." 

To  a  mind  of  such  poetic  tension  the  herein  related 
incident,  in  which  the  super  plays  a  prominent  part,  must 
have  caused  the  most  painful  anguish,  viz : 

A  patriotic  spectacle  had,  for  its  last  scene,  an  allegori- 
cal design,  representing  the  great  Washington,  in  com- 
pany with  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  making  an  ascent,  sur- 
rounded by  clouds,  while  the  jjopulace  were  to  pay  adoi'a- 
tion  in  an  attitude  of  reverence ;  upon  which  j)icture  the 
curtain  should  descend. 

When  the  great  man  stepped  upon  the  platform,  he 
there  discovered  a  super  reclining  upon  the  very  spot 
designed  for  himself.  He  was  astonished  beyond  meas- 
ure,—  such  a  thing  had  never  happened  before.  There  was 
no  time  to  seek  the  stage  manager,  for  the  tableau  was 
about  to  be  discovered ;  therefore  he  was  obliged,  much 
against  his  will,  to  hold  a  parley  with  the  intruder,  with 
the  following  result : 

Washington.  Hollo  !  I  say,  you !  This  can't  be,  you 
know  ! 

Super.    Why  not,  old  boss. 

Washington.  Never  heard  of  such  a  thing  in  all  my 
life  !     Go  down  ! 

Super.  Shan't  do  it.  Say,  what's  the  use  o'  talking. 
There  aint  no  room  down  there  among  that  crowd.  I 
was  told  to  put  myself  near  here,  and  I'm  bound  to  see 
the  thing  through. 

Washington.    But  no  one  can  have  instructed  you  to 
get  up  here.    You'll  spoil  the  piece.     My  good  man,  go 
down  at  once  ! 
10* 


226  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

Super.    Not  I ;  I  shan't  spoil  the  piece. 

'Washington.  I  tell  you,  you  will.  This  is  Heaven, 
and  no  one  goes  there  but  Caroline  and  myself. 

The  super  was  insensible  to  his  appeal,  and  stood  his 
ground  till  the  curtain  descended. 


CHAPTER  XVni. 

"  To  be  merry  best  becomes  you;  for,  out  of  question,  you  were  born 
in  a  merry  hour. ' ' 

Much  Ado  About  JVothiny.     Act  2.     Scene  2. 

MOSE    IN     CANADA. 

To  be  favored  by  nature  with  a  continuous  and  un- 
wearying stock  of  happy  spirits,  is  a  blessing  vouchsafed 
to  few.  Such  natures  shed  a  halo  of  jollity  around  their 
fellow  mortals,  which  cannot  be  too  highly  prized  for  the 
blessings  it  diffuses.  They  are  sunbeams  breaking  through 
the  haze  of  sombre  humanity  to  illumine  the  pathway  of 
our  worldly  pilgrimage.  Every  ^vtlnderer  can  carry  his 
thoughts  back  with  pleasure  to  some  period  of  his  histo- 
ry when,  amid  the  gloom  of  weariness,  some  genial  spirit 
has  burst  upon  the  scene,  and  beguiled  the  tedium  of 
many  otherwise  dull  and  irksome  hours. 

Let  not  my  readers  suppose  I  am  about  to  indulge  in  a 
dissertation  upon  that  nearly  extinct  specialty  of  Amei'- 
ica,  y'clept  Mose,  in  support  of  the  position  assumed  at 
the  beginning  of  this  chapter.  My  subject  has  a  distinct 
existence,  and  well  deserves  a  niche  in  my  kindly  remem- 
brance, for  his  companionship  at  a  time  of  ^professional 
depression. 

Winter  in  Canada  is  far  from  a  favorable  period  of  the 
year  for  transmission  from  place  to  j^lace,  in  any  given 
length  of  time,  despite  the  extensive  appliances  at  com- 
mand of  the  railroad  officials. 

I  turned  lazily  in  my  bed  on  the  morning  of  a  day  in 
the  month  of  January,  and  peering  through  the  window 


228  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

blind  looked  out  -with  a  discontented  spirit  upon  the 
streets  of  Quebec;  with  the  painful  conviction  upper- 
most in  my  mind  that  I  had,  at  all  hazards,  to  set  out  on 
a  journey  in  order  to  reach  New  York  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible. 

Shiveringly  I  made  an  attempt  to  get  into  my  clothes, 
which,  from  the  extreme  severity  of  the  weather,  seemed 
to  have  been  changed  in  the  night,  and  to  be  the  proper- 
ty of  some  person  of  much  larger  circumference  than  I 
was,  while  the  rapidity  and  ease  with  which  I  deposited 
my  right  foot  into  its  usually  tight  boot,  sufficed  to  con- 
vince me  of  the  wonderful  power  of  contraction  by  cold, 
more  satisfactorily  than  all  the  scientific  asseverations  I 
had  heard  and  read,  upon  that  very  interesting  subjest. 

Descending  to  breakfast,  I  encounter  several  brothers 
in  prosi^ective  suflering  who,  after  having  partaken  heart- 
ily of  the  good  things  for  which  the  Russell  Hotel  is  dis- 
tinguished, wrap  and^  fold  themselves  into  all  sorts  of 
curious  devices,  with  furs  and  mufflers,  and  are  tucked  up 
in  their  sleigh  to  cross  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Point  Levi. 

Who  is  that  massive  individual  Avith  gorgeous  side 
whiskers,  of  the  most  distingue  cut,  partially  concealed 
by  the  ear  pieces  of  his  fur  cap  ?  He  is  on  the  platform, 
awaiting  our  arrival,  with  his  leathern  bag  swung  across 
liis  capacious  body.  He  receives  the  compliments  of  the 
morning  from  the  majority  of  the  passengers,  and  returns 
it  with  a  countenance  suffused  with  such  unalloyed  mirth, 
that  the  perils  of  your  journey  are  speedily  forgotten. 

To  all  who  have  travelled  between  Montreal  and  Que- 
bec, "  Mose  "  is  well  known  ;  and  his  existence  is  as  much 
a  matter  of  the  neighborhood's  history,  as  the  time  table 
records  are  of  the  number  of  miles  you  diminish  from 
your  starting  point,  till  you  reach  your  destination. 
Portly  in  flesh,  and  plethoric  with  good  nature,  he  poises 
himself  upon  his  capacious  legs,  and  reviews  the  train  of 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  229 

voyagers,  as  they  deposit  themselves  in  the  carriages  of 
the  Grand  Trunk  Railway,  about  to  start  upon  their  way 
from  the  latter  to  the  former  named  city. 

The  bell  rings  to  prepare  for  moving  ;  our  conductor, 
"  Mose,"  not  like  the  athletic  attendant  who  bounds  upon 
the  last  platform  with  a  show  of  perfect  security  —  but 
having  deposited  himself  beyond  the  possibility  of  acci- 
dent, gives  the  signal,  and  we  are  off. 

Who  has  not  a  vivid  remembrance  of  being  aroused 
out  of  a  comfortable  doze  at  the  end  of  every  quarter  of 
an  hour,  and  being  commanded  to  exhibit  those  detest- 
able coupons ;  and  who  has  ever  forgiven  the  cruel  de- 
spoiler  of  his  rest,  who  insists  upon  seeing  "  that  ticket," 
after  its  possessor  has,  with  persistent  ingenuity,  erected 
a  resting  place  which  he  designs  to  dedicate  to  "  nature's 
sweet  restorer  ?  " 

Rigid  philosophers,  associates  of  institutions  for  the 
diffusion  of  knowledge,  members  of  congress,  at  whose 
gatherings  withering  anathemas  are  wielded  in  vocal 
conflict,  lose  their  potency  of  argument,  and  become  pas- 
sive sufferers,  at  the  assaults  of  this  barbarous  and  des- 
potic custom. 

The  popular  impression  favors  the  idea  that  this  mode 
of  torture,  being  in  itself  a  simple  and  necessary  proceed- 
ing, cannot  be  much  abridged  or  modified  without  de- 
stroying the  time-honored  privilege  of  the  institution  of 
which  it  forms  an  important  part.  To  those  who  incline 
to  this  belief,  I  would  suggest  a  journey  with  the  subject 
of  my  thoughts,  and  the  supposition  will  be  speedily  dis- 
pelled. By  the  potency  of  his  ensemble,  you  will  find  your- 
self a  grateful  recipient  of  the  privilege  of  occupying  a 
seat  in  his  conveyance.  Such  was  my  sensation,  when  I 
made  his  acquaintance  under  circumstances  to  which  this 
chapter  refers. 

Two  of  the  strongest  locomotives  were  put  into  requisi- 


230  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

tion  to  give  battle  against  a  pelting  snow-storm,  and  for 
a  time  seemed  to  get  the  best  of  the  affray ;  a  vigorous 
and  persistent  relay  of  the  enemy's  forces,  however, 
poured  such  a  toi-rent  of  ammunition  in  our  path,  that 
the  iron  contestants  were  obliged  to  capitulate,  and 
being  brought  to  a  state  of  helpless  inactivity,  stood 
belching  forth  their  yells  of  despair  and  mortification,  at 
a  small  station  about  seventy  miles  west  of  Quebec. 

The  snow  was  packed  into  mountainous  deposits  of 
such  magnitude,  that  I  wondered  how  many  months  of 
genial  warmth  it  would  take  to  liquify  it;  when  we 
were  all  acquainted  with  the  fact  that  it  would  be  desir- 
able to  make  the  best  of  our  condition,  and  prepare  to 
console  ourselves  with  the  belief  that  our  stay  at  our 
present  resting  pla«e  might  extend  to  a  period  of  some 
considei'able  duration. 

Loud  and  violent  were  the  complaints  of  the  passen- 
gers ;  one  old  gentleman  was  prepared  to  take  his  affida- 
vit that  he  had  never  known  a  solitary  instance  wherein 
the  company  had  faithfully  pei'formed  their  contract  to 
the  public.  Another,  a  lady  of  very  choice  material,  and 
whose  back  hair  was  coiled  over  to  the  front,  and  curled 
with  desperate  severity,  to  aid  in  a  laudable  desire  to 
counterfeit  juvenility,  was  on  the  verge  of  epilepsy,  but 
recanted  at  the  indifference  manifested  at  the  project, 
and  relapsed  into  an  abstraction  of  the  last  novel,  while 
the  majority  met  the  difficulty  with  the  spirit  of  philoso- 
phy usually  begotten  by  the  exigency  of  stern  necessity. 

Darkness  soon  came  upon  us, huddled  together  in  a  small 
apartment  used  as  a  waiting  room  by  the  few  patrons 
who  resided  in  the  vicinity  of  the  place.  It  was  lighted 
with  a  flickering,  but  strongly  perfumed  oil  lamp  suspend- 
ed from  the  roof,  which  shed  a  cheerless  ray  of  comfort 
upon  the  faces  of  the  occupants,  as  they  gathered  around 
the  newly  ignited  stove.     Benches  and  boxes  of  all  kinds 


FOOTLTGHT   FLASHES.  231 

were  speedily  hunted  up,  and  resting  places  improvised 
upon  which  to  pass  the  night.  A  store  of  wood  is  laid 
in,  and  every  person  is  anxious  to  do  something  to  ame- 
liorate the  condition  of  things,  and  for  the  common  good. 

After  conferring  with  the  engineer,  our  conductor  en- 
ters the  telegraph  office,  and  communicates  to  head  quar- 
ters the  position  of  affairs,  and  solicits  assistance  ;  this 
important  and  necessary  duty  performed,  he  is  at  liberty 
to  mingle  with  the  company,  and  be  bored  with  sugges- 
tions of  all  kinds,  in  relation  to  our  deliverance,  to  which 
he  listens  with  great  relish,  and  even  makes  a  feint  of 
adopting,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  proposers. 

The  lady  passengers  compose  themselves  to  sleep  ;  save 
one,  attired  in  common  apparel,  who  has  a  fractious  child 
that  continually  asserts  its  distaste  of  surrounding  objects, 
and  is  not  appeased  till  its  parent,  with  the  untiring 
heroism  of  her  sex,  has  walked  to  and  fro,  long  into  the 
silent  hours  of  the  night,  and  when  sheer  exhaustion  as- 
sumes its  sway,  and  holds  its  revel  in  forgetfulness. 

Mose  forms  himself  into  a  committee  of  "  one,"  and 
taking  possession  of  a  small  ante-room  adjoining  the  tel- 
egraph office,  chai'ters  a  brakesman  to  provide,  as  best  he 
can,  for  the  wants  of  a  select  number  of  congenial  spirits. 
The  arrangements  completed,  he  issues  invitations  in  per- 
son, and  prepares  to  play  the  part  of  host  for  the  night. 
As  we  entei-,  we  find  him  at  the  head  of  a  small  table, 
looking  very  much  out  of  proportion  with  the  size  of  the 
structure,  chanting  his  favorite  ditty,  complimentary  to 
the  other  sex,  somewhat  in  the  following  strain  : 

"  There  are  girls,  with  raven  hair,    • 
And  lips,  a  luscious  pair. 
Whose  coral  richness  vanquish  us, 
Then  jest  at  our  despair. 
Then  in  anger  should  we  pass 
To  some  blonde,  and  sprightly  lass. 
Whose  glance  of  witching  loveliness 
All  others  can  surpass. 


232  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"  Fill  the   cup  with  sparkling  wine, 
And  while  draining,  ne'er  repine, 
But  homage  pay  to  beauty, 
For  tis  a  joy  divine. 
So  we'll  toast  the  lovely  fair 
"With  the  light,  or  raven  hair, 
Who  conquer  us  poor  mortals, 
And  jest  at  our  despair."  &c.  &c. 

Amidst  the  jollity  of  the  night,  he  steals  away  to  as- 
sure himself  that  the  lady  passengers  are  as  well  disposed 
of  as  circumstances  will  permit.  To  the  more  needy 
one  who,  with  her  fractious  little  charge,  is  pacing  the 
floor,  he  offers  comforts  not  sparingly  bestowed,  but  lav- 
ished with  a  cheering  welcome,  that  wealth  can  never 
purchase. 

There  are  moments  of  an  actor's  career  when  the  pro- 
grammes of  the  performances  set  forth  with  great  bold- 
ness, the  assertion  that  "The  public  are  crowding  the  the- 
atre to  repletion,  to  pay  homage  to  the  talent  of  the  dis- 
tinguished artiste  who  is  at  the  time  honoring  the  build- 
ing with  his  presence,  and  powerful  rendition  of  charac- 
ter," but  when  the  luckless  one  shall  divest  his  mind  of 
the  poetry  of  this  manifesto,  he  will  i)robably  arrive  at 
the  painful  reality  that  his  efforts  are  sufficiently  remuner- 
ative to  satisfy  the  claims  of  the  landlord  and  the  jDrinter ; 
leaving  him  to  banquet  upon  his  well-earned  laurels  only. 

It  was  during  one  of  those  interesting  episodes  of  my 
adventures,  that  I  found  our  hero  the  oasis  of  a  profes- 
sional desert. 

The  sun  w^as  shining  brightly  in  the  month  of  Septem- 
ber. A  company  of  riflemen  were  going  through  their 
manoeuvres  witj^  wonderful  exactness  in  tlie  square  front- 
ing the  officers'  quarters,  inside  the  citadel  of  Quebec.  I 
was  watching  them  with  pleasure  and  curiosity,  when  my 
ears  were  saluted  with, 

"  What  ho !  my  noble  lord.  How  fares  it  with  your 
excellency?" 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  233 

There  can  be  no  mistaking  that  voice,  thought  I,  as 
in  turning  round,  I  recognised  our  adolescent  friend,  en- 
joying the  refreshing  breeze  from  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
lie  strikes  an  attitude  as  I  approach,  his  face  beaming 
with  mirtli.  As  I  make  towards  him,  he  assumes  the 
manner  of  a  well  known  Canadian  manager,  and  in  aloud 
whisper  exclaims, 

"  Jack's  come,  by  heavens,  we're  safe,  we're  all  right 
now!  I  knew  it.  I  was  sure  he'd  be  here, —  never  mis- 
taken in  Jack." 

This  being  the  said  manager's  customary  manifesto  when 
announcing  the  arrival  of  his  property  hoy,  whose  pres- 
ence in  any  one  of  his  towns,  he  considered  quite  suffi- 
cient to  inaugurate  a  season,  and  carry  it  satisfactorily 
and  profitably  to  its  close. 

We  had  not  seen  each  other  for  two  years.  Sickness 
had  dealt  him  a  heavy  blow,  from  which  he  had  not  ex- 
pected to  recover;  yet  his  hilariousness  had  not  forsaken 
him.  For  the  balance  of  the  morning  he  regaled  me  with 
all  sorts  of  oddities,  and  during  the  process  of  the  dona- 
tion of  my  services  to  the  people  of  Quebec,  (for  I  can- 
not regard  my  visit  in  any  other  light,)  he  constantly 
smoothed  the  pathway  of  my  labors,  for  the  which  I  de- 
sire to  record  my  grateful  acknowledgments. 

Finally,  dear  reader,  if  you  propose  to  indulge  in  atrip 
through  Canada,  fail  not  to  travel  with  Mose.  If  you  are 
a  victim  to  hypochondria  he  Avill,  by  his  genial  deportment, 
do  much  to  assuage  your  melancholy.  If  your  nature  is 
inquisitorial,  I  will  venture  to  affirm  that  he  can  impart 
sufficient  information  to  appease  any  native  of  Connecti- 
cut who  ever  quitted  his  parent  state.  There  are  those 
under  the  firm  impression  that,  should  he  adopt  the  posi- 
tion of  purveyor  for  the  weary  traveller  at  any  one  of 
the  numerous  resting  places  with  wliich  this  continent 
abounds,  he  is  just  the  man  of  all  others  who  could 
keep  ail.  hotel. 


234  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

While  willing  to  concede  any  amount  of  convivial 
honor  that  can  possibly  be  thrust  upon  him,  I  most  con- 
scientiously affirm  that,  if  unfitted  for  the  above  severe 
and  popular  test  of  excellence,  he  is  just  the  man  who 
can  conduct  a  train. 

THE    TRAGEDIAN. 

Sensibly  alive  to  the  status  he  occupies  in  the  public 
esteem  as  the  expounder  of  the  loftiest  creations  of  the 
most  distinguished  poets,  the  tragedian  unconsciously 
wraps  himself  within  the  folds  of  classic  dignity,  even 
when  not  engaged  in  the  exercise  of  his  professional  call- 
ing. An  habitual  reserve  would  seem  to  say  "  excuse  me 
if  I  temper  my  appreciation  of  your  joke  with  a  stolid 
regard  for  high  art,  befitting  the  conduct  of  one  who  is 
amongst  the  most  celebrated  of  its  professors." 

Of  his  early  association  with  the  best  society  we  are 
constantly  made  familiar,  from  his  own  undoubted,  and 
unprejudiced  authority.  How  well  he  remembers,  as  if 
it  were  but  yesterday,  the  frequent  gatherings  of  high 
official  personages  ai'ound  the  family  board ;  where  he 
was  permitted,  in  virtue  of  his  great  primitive  ability,  to 
occupy  a  seat  at  the  table,  from  which  he  only  seceded 
to  be  borne  in  triumph  to  the  drawing-room  —  when  the 
ladies  withdrew, —  where  his  extraordinary  perception  of 
character,  (for  his  age)  together  with  his  personal  beauty, 
was  the  theme  of  conversation  for  the  balance  of  the  eve- 
ning. 

If  it  be  conceded,  as  laid  down  by  a  great  poet,  that 
the  man  who  drinks  beer  will  think  beer,  it  surely  must 
be  terrible  to  believe  that  one,  the  active  part  of  whose 
life  is  passed  in  the  utterance  of  the  loftiest  forms  of  po- 
etic excellence,  should  be  somewhat  imbued  with  senti- 
ments and  affinities  of  a  corresponding  character.  This 
is  the  only  explanation  we  can  offer  for  the  frequent  meta- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  235 

physical  bearing  of  the  subject  of  our  sketch  ;  though  it 
by  no  means  marks  the  character  with  sufficient  exactness 
to  establish  the  affinity  of  a  principle. 

Some  there  are,  whose  jollity,  under  the  influence  of 
convivial  surroundings,  would  lead  the  observer  to  believe 
they  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  Thalia,  and  not  Melpo- 
mene ;  and  they  not  unfrequently  rise  to  greater  distinc- 
tion than  their  more  serious  cotemporaries. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  they  will  say,  "you  have  no  poetical 
responsibility;  you  make  the  people  laugh  —  and  they, 
unfortunately  for  art  —  don't  care  by  what  means  you  do 
it ;  but  we  tragedians  have  all  the  weight  and  interest  of 
the  play  to  sustain  through  five  acts;  the  physical  effort 
of  which  —  apart  from  any  other  consideration  —  is  labor 
of  the  most  distressing  kind.  With  you,  it  is  very  diffi^r- 
ent,  for  how  few  —  even  those  who  set  themselves  up  for 
critics,  trouble  their  heads  about  the  consistency  of  your 
representations." 

In  the  provinces,  the  tragedian  is  viewed  with  a  larger 
amount  of  concern  than  usually  greets  him  amidst  the  din 
and  bustle  of  a  populous  city.  There,  on  the  natal  day 
of  the  greatest  of  poets,  he  will  join  a  choice  circle  of  ad- 
miring spirits  who  assemble  once  every  year  to  utter  their 
warmest  encomiums  on  his  matchless  productions ;  and 
after  a  wholesome  fortification  of  the  good  things  of  this 
life,  he  will,  in  virtue  of  his  office  as  "  the  unworthy  ex- 
pounder of  the  poet's  creations,  propose  a  silent  ovation 
to  his  memory,  coupling  it  with  a  few  remarks  on  the 
progress  of  art,  from  the  period  when  Euripides  bequeathed 
his  gigantic  eflfusions  to  the  world,  down  to  the  time 
when  so  humble  an  individual  as  himself,  is  permitted  to 
lend  his  poor  ability  to  the  perpetuation  of  the  drama," 
concluding  with  a  fervent  hope  "  that  the  sister  arts  may 
speedily  hail  the  advent  of  another  mighty  mind,  to  add 
lustre  to  its  intellectual  progression  ;  then  shall  the  harp 


236  rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

of  the  minstrel,  the  chisel  of  the  sculptor,  and  the  pen  of 
the  poet,  blend  in  educational  grandeur  throughout  the 
universe." 

Having  lashed  his  hearers  into  that  state  of  imbecile 
candor  they  are  prone  to  fall  when  they  feel  on  the  best 
terms  with  themselves,  the  company  depart  with  a  firm 
conviction  on  their  minds,  that  their  dramatic  friend 
would  have  distinguished  himself  equally  well  in  any  one 
of  the  learned  professions,  had  it  pleased  fate  so  to  have 
disposed  him. 

Our  hero  is  frequently  clamorous  on  the  decadence  of 
the  drama,  and  evinces  his  desire  for  its  intellectual  wel- 
fare, by  sacrificing  himself  within  the  toils  of  manage- 
ment, where  the  productions  of  the  choicest  Avorks  of  the 
best  dramatists  shall  be  his  chief  and  positive  aim. 

The  prefatory  advertisement  sets  out  with  the  assur- 
ance that  talent  of  every  grade  shall,  in  this  "model  tem- 
ple "  meet  with  that  fostering  care  commensurate  with 
its  due ;  but  it  does  so  happen,  either  from  the  scarcity  of 
ability  in  the  first  roles,  or  that  those  in  possession  of  that 
gift  have  nobler  purposes  in  view,  and  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  pressing  invitation,  that  the  public  are  very  seldom 
called  upon  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  merits  of  any 
whose  success  would  be  likely  to  conflict  with  the  pro- 
fessional status  of  the  manager,  Avhose  unremitting  en- 
deavor it  is  to  mould  the  public  mind  to  the  belief  that 
none  can  so  worthily  embody  the  best  parts,  as  he  who 
thus  immolates  himself  upon  the  altar  of  their  instruction 
and  amusement.  The  serious  characters  in  the  best  com- 
edies that  fall  to  his  charge  are,  by  no  means,  welcome 
visitors.  Nor  does  he  very  readily  admit  the  same  justi- 
fication for  objection  on  the  part  of  the  comic  strength  of 
the  establishment,  who  consider  themselves  ill-placed  in 
the  subordinate  ones  in  tragedy. 

In  most  instances,  our  hero   brings  to  his  aid  in  the  ex- 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  237 

ercise  of  his  professional  calling,  a  gentlemanly  deport- 
ment on,  as  well  as  off  the  stage,  backed  by  liberal  educa- 
tion, and  a  nice  discrimination  for  the  purposes  of  his  art. 
His  emolument  is  usually  the  largest  in  the  theatre,  and 
many  have  passed  the  evening  of  their  days  in  the  com- 
fortable possession  of  a  competence,  derived  from  their 
exertions  while  in  active  service. 

Some  there  are  who,  being  soured  by  the  imagined 
neglect  of  the  public,  have  quitted  their  brothers  of  the 
sock  and  buskin  with  a  dignified  disgust  which  nothing 
can  assuage  ;  and  after  lingering  around  the  atmosphere 
of  their  old  associations  for  a  time,  betake  themselves  to 
that  forlorn  hope  of  educated  incapacity,  i.  e.,  "The 
Lecture  Room,"  where  they  are  usually  greeted  with 
frantic  exultation  by  a  class  who  view  with  an  eye  of 
envy  all  institutions  (save  their  own,)  and  cherish  a 
deserter  from  the  dramatic  camp  with  a  tenderness  and 
regard,  typical  of  that  bestowed  upon  the  stray  lamb  who 
sought  admittance  within  the  precincts  of  sancity  and 
truth. 

There,  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  apparent  piety,  our 
hero  has  been  known  to  descant  with  a  penitential 
visage  upon  the  numerous  wickednesses  he  perpetrated 
by  adapting  himself  to  the  exercise  of  his  much  maligned 
calling,  savoring  his  recantation  with  the  most  ingenious 
accounts  of  incidents  long  grown  threadbare  in  the  minds 
of  adepts  of  romantic  lore.  Emboldened  by  the  belief 
that  a  wholesale  tirade  levelled  against  the  art  dramatic 
will  be  seized  with  avidity  by  his  new  found  admirers,  he 
will  contribute  to  the  literature  of  the  country  a  volume 
most  liberally  charged  with  their  popular  belief,  wherein 
he  will  show  for  future  clerical  reference,  how  the  youth 
of  both  sexes  can  never  find  so  fitting  a  sphere  for  the 
consummation  of  their  total  ruin,  as  the  exercise  of  a 
profession  for  whose  perpetuity  the  great  master  minds 


238  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

of  all  countries  have  scattered  their  matchless  gifts  in 
luscious  profusion,  despite  the  clamor  and  warning  of 
the  self-elected  purveyors  of  morality  and  virtue. 

It  is  scarcely  competent  to  believe  that  the  early  in- 
sti'uction  imparted  by  an  indulgent  and  highly  educated 
parent,  while  struggling  against  the  limited  income  of  a 
provincial  position,  and  more  liberally  bestowed  when  he 
attained  to  the  summit  of  his  art,  should  have  produced, 
in  some  singular  instance,  so  uncongenial  a  result.  It  is 
nevertheless  undeniably  evident,  that  when  the  play-going 
public,  with  an  obstinacy  for  which  it  is  remarkable,  can 
no  longer  be  induced  to  believe  that  the  subject  of  our 
sketch  is  the  greatest  actor  of  his  age  ;  his  discontent  can 
find  no  more  fitting  channel  for  ventilation  than  an  im- 
mediate secession  from  the  recusant  camp. 

Few  there  are  who  do  not,  when  in  the  decline  of  life, 
cling  more  closely  to  the  afiinity  of  professional  love ; 
and  it  is  only  with  a  view  to  embrace  the  several  charac- 
teristics of  those  whom  I  have  encountered  in  my  pil- 
grimage, that  I  ascribe  any  personal  allusion  to  "The 
Tragedian. " 

THE    JOB  ACTOE. 

In  a  part  of  the  city  where  the  thirst  for  progression 
and  improvement  has  recently  erected  dwellings  replete 
with  conveniences,  within  the  limited  resource  of  the  re_ 
spectably  disposed,  affording  the  occupants  all  the  out- 
side splendor  of  the  private  family  mansion,  with  the  in- 
ternal seclusion  of  domestic  hermitage,  resides  the  Job 
Actor. 

You  enter  one  of  these  hives  of  humanity,  dignified 
by  the  high  sounding  name  of  "Hotel,"  and  find  yourself 
in  a  hall  very  much  contracted  in  space,  but  brilliantly 
furnished  with  a  gaudily  printed  oil-cloth,  and  plentifully 
supplied  with  gas  light.     You  ascend  the  stairs,  the  edges 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  239 

of  which  are  studded  with  copper-headed  nails,  or  provid- 
ed with  a  strip  of  zinc  to  economize  the  structure  from 
the  constant  wear  and  tear  it  is  subjected  to  by  the 
myriads  of  passers  up  and  down. 

The  higher  you  ascend,  the  lower  becomes  the  amount 
of  payment  you  are  called  upon  to  disburse  for  the  priv- 
elege  of  occupying  a  suite  of  apartments  in  one  of  these 
rapidly  increasing  domains. 

An  overlooker,  or  purveyor  of  the  strict  23ropriety  of 
the  building,  occupies  an  apartment  near  the  entrance,  who 
unites  to  the  duties  of  that  office,  the  genteel  art  of  mil- 
linery, and  dress  making.  If  you  are  in  doubt  of  the 
precise  location  of  the  party  you  propose  to  visit,  you  so- 
licit her  aid  in  procuring  the  necessary  information,  and 
are  there  apprised  that  the  back  room  on  the  fourth  floor, 
is  the  point  of  your  destination.  You  ascend,  counting 
the  flights  as  you  go.  You  reach  the  landing  considera- 
bly excited  in  respiration,  and  knock  at  a  door.  After  a 
little  delay  the  key  is  turned  in  the  lock,  and  a  lady,  whom 
you  have  most  unceremoniously  disturbed  at  her  toilet, 
presents  one  half  her  countenance,  and  in  reply  to  your 
enquiry  directs  you  to  the  other  end  of  the  landing.  You 
pause  ere  you  again  venture,  till  approaching  footsteps  de- 
cide you  to  wait  till  they  reach  your  locality,  and  you  are 
soon  face  to  face  with  the  lad  Avho  carries  a  partially  con- 
cealed loaf  of  bread  under  his  ai'm,  and  from  whom  you 
are  instructed  Avith  the  required  accuracy. 

The  job  actor  is  an  exotic  entirely  of  American  na- 
tivity ;  begotten  conjointly  by  the  exigency  of  the  tim'es^ 
and  the  shrewdness  of  managerial  cupidity.  You  find  him 
surrounded  by  his  wife,  and  four  children.  He  is  busily 
engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  a  huge  black  beard,  with 
which  he  has  to  provide  himself  for  the  approaching 
sensation  drama  of  the  "  Inca,  and  the  Dromedary,"  and 
in  which  he  is  to  enact  a  recluse  who  exists  in  the  depths 


240  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

of  a  forest,  and  supports  himself  on  berries,  and  other 
fruits  of  a  similar  kind  with  which  the  neighborhood  is 
supposed  to  be  plentifully  supplied. 

"Aha!  old  fellow,  how  are  you.  Here  I  am,  hard  at  it,  as 
you  see.  '  The  labor  we  delight  in  physics  pain.'  Mary, 
give  me  the  scissors,  and  some  more  crape  hair.  Thank 
you.  Well,  what's  new  ?  Find  a  chair  somewhere,  won't 
you  ?  How  are  things  at  your  place,  —  how's  the  business^ 
eh  ?  The  press  don't  seem  to  think  much  of  that  last  piece, 
rather  shaky,  I  should  say,  eh?  Hope  it  won't  affect  the 
company.     Sure  to  keep  open,  I  suppose  ?  " 

You  cannot  help  feeling  grateful  to  our  friend  for  pro- 
pounding so  large  a  list  of  questions  without  waiting  for 
an  answer.  He  is  probably  aware  of  the  unsettled  condi- 
tion of  your  respiratory  organs,  from  the  distance  you 
have  mounted  in  order  to  pay  him  a  visit.  You  are  glad 
to  see  him,  and  soon  express  as  much.  Times  are  changed 
since  you  first  met.  He  was  single  then,  a  favorite  with 
every  audience  before  whom  he  appeared,  and  regular- 
ly attached  to  one  of  the  first  class  theatres  of  the  city. 
Changes  of  management  brought  about  the  usual  exercise 
of  friendly  interference  on  behalf  of  others,  perhaps  no 
less  worthy,  and  he  felt  himself  distanced  in  his  profes- 
sional position  without  being  able  to  assign  within  him- 
self a  satisfactory  reason.  The  rapid  increase  in  his  fami- 
ly, with  occasional  sickness,  had  bound  him  by  stern  neces- 
ity  to  the  great  city,  with  a  hope  that  things  might  mend. 
He  Avas  certain  his  habits  were  unexceptionable,  he  had  a 
good  wardrobe,  was  always  i^erfect  in  his  author,  atten- 
tive to  the  business  of  the  scene ;  and  the  audience,  with 
whom  he  was  still  a  great  favorite,  ever  ready  and  willing 
to  acknowledge  him  by  their  plaudits.     He  had  a  part  in 

the  new  piece  at  the Theatre,  but  the  duration  of  his 

engagement  was  to  be  regulated  by  the  run  of  the  play, 
and  be  saw  but  little  hope  of  employment  for  the  ap- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  241 

preaching  winter  season  ;  further,  he  was  compelled  to  ac- 
cept about  a  third  of  what  he  was  honestly  worth  ;  being 
assured  by  the  manager,  that  altliough  he  Avould  like  to 
have  him  in  the  cast,  he  should  give  no  more  salary  to  any 
one,  and  numbers  could  be  provided  who  would  readily 
accept  the  terms. 

You  suggest,  knowing  that  your  old  friend  possesses 
some  literary  ability,  that  he  should  endeavor,  by  the 
exercise  of  his  pen,  to  add  to  his  income. 

"  N"o  use,  my  dear  boy.  I've  tried  that  long  ago.  May 
be  very  well  for  those  who  have  a  position,  and  can  get 
their  articles  accepted,  but  the  humiliation  is  not  over 
pleasant  to  outside  talent  of  whatever  grade ;  I  did,  some 
time  since,  two  articles  for  a  popular  joublication ;  their 
scale  of  payment  entitling  me  to  six  dollars,  which  I  was 
only  able  to  obtain  six  months  after  it  was  due,  and  after 
numberless  applications.  In  another  case  I  prepared  an 
article  for  a  magazine  of  world-wide  reputation,  on  a 
subject  I  was  advised  to  believe  of  a  very  interesting 
character  to  the  general  public ;  but  the  reader  of  the 
concern,  who  was  himself  in  the  habit  of  writing,  and 
deeply  attached  to  subjects  of  a  metaphysical  nature,  re- 
jected the  contribution,  assigning  as  a  reason  for  so  doing, 
that  it  was  too  DicJcens-y  in  style  to  suit  them.  Thus 
every  avenue  appears  to  be  closed  against  me.  Plowever, 
we  must  hope  for  the  best;  let's  have  a  smoke, and  forget 
our  troubles  in  the  fragrant  weed." 

We  lighted  our  pipes  and  chatted  over  past  incidents  of 
our  career,  enlivened  by  the  cheerful  presence  of  one  of 
the  best  of  wives  and  mothers,  who,  despite  the  state  of 
the  exchequer,  always  sweetened  the  family  meal  with  the 
spirit  of  contentment  and  satisfaction. 

I  very-  soon  had  the  pleasure  of  congratixlating  my 
friend  on  the  success  of  the  new  drama,  and  his  conse- 
quent full  measure  of  employment  for  the  winter ;  hap- 
11 


242  FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

pily  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  watching  with  eager 
gaze  the  dramatic  column  of  a  leading  daily  pai:)er,  to 
find  that  a  certain  establishment  is  about  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  a  party  who  desires  to  surround  his  managerial 
speculation  with  those  who  are  of  acknowledged  position 
in  the  profession,  and  that  none  other  need  trouble  them- 
selves to  apply  at  the  box  office  of  the  theatre  at  a  stated 
hour  the  following  moi'ning. 

Punctual  to  the  time,  may  be  seen  several  of  the  frater- 
nity of  the  art,  who  afiect  a  nonchalant  air  on  the  subject 
of  their  present  mission,  waiting  the  result  of  an  applica- 
tion that  shall  enable  them  to  look  the  next  month  or 
two  in  the  face  with  confidence,  and  whereby  they  may 
keep  the  domestic  machinery  in  motion  without  difficul- 
ty- 

Those  whose  employment  is  continuous,  can  scarcely 
realize  the  full  measure  of  misery  such  a  system  is  fraught 
with,  to  the  actor.  At  best,  a  profession  of  great  un- 
certainty, is  that  of  the  stage  ;  this  system  of  brief  en- 
gagements has  reduced  it  to  the  verge  of  pauperism, 
which  no  one  possessing  the  instincts  of  respect  for  him- 
self or  an  art  to  whose  service  he  has,  perhaps,  devoted 
the  best  period  of  his  life,  can  long  submit  to. 

It  is  pleasing  to  state,  that  the  provinces  have  not  yet 
reached  this  highly  ingenious  method  of  professional  tor- 
ture. An  opportunity  presents  itself  at  any  moment  for 
some  person  of  an  adventurous  nature,  to  inaugurate  the 
system. 

PALMY   DATS    OF    THE    DRAMA. 

This  is  an  expression  so  often  used  by  old  play  goers, 
that  it  leads  to  the  supposition  that,  in  those  much  and 
frequently  lauded  times,  it  was  only  necessary  to  throw 
open  the  doors  of  a  theatre,  to  have  the  public  immediate- 
ly take  possession  of  the  building. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  243 

The  following  illustrations  will  show  that  some  of  the 
greatest  artists  have  not  unfrequeutly  appeared  to  most 
indifferent  houses,  viz : 

"  In  the  year  1822,  during  the  season  at  Drury  Lane^ 
London,  the  receipts  for  many  nights  did  not  amount  to 
more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  pounds,  while  the  expenses 
are  stated  to  have  been  more  than  two  hundred,  and  this 
when  such  names  as  those  of  Elliston,  Harley,  Cooper, 
Fitzwilliam,  Knight,  Gattie,  Braham,  Mrs.  W.  West, 
Glover,  Oger,  Misses  Forde,  Povey,  Smithson,  Copeland, 
etc.,  etc.,  of  very  considerable  talent,  were  often  combined 
in  the  performance  of  some  of  our  best  tragedies  and 
comedies. 

I  well  remember,  for  I  was  a  member  of  a  company  at 
the  Ipswich  Theatre  in  1841,  that  Mr.  William  Farren 
played  six  nights,  and  the  gross  receipts  of  the  entire  per- 
formances only  amounted  to  sixty  pounds,  ($300).  And 
at  the  commencement  of  the  season  at  Colchester,  in  Es- 
sex, also  belonging  to,  or  forming  part  of  the  Norwich 
circuit,  the  receipts  to  the  performance  of  "London  As- 
surance," and  the  pantomime  of  "  Sinbad,  the  Sailor  "  only 
reached  the  munificent  sum  of  £1  10s.  (17,50.) 

I  have  met  with  numerous  instances  of  a  cessation  of 
hostilities  on  the  part  of  the  public,  to  patronize  the 
choicest  performances,  while  those  of  a  quality  that  have 
been  universally  condemned  have  met  with  the  most  sig- 
nal success ;  indeed,  an  old  and  very  worthy  manager  of  a 
small  circuit  in  the  west  of  England,  once  assured  me 
that  all  through  his  career,  when  he  had,  with  a  desire  to 
give  the  public  the  full  worth  of  their  money,  engaged 
persons  of  good  professional  capacity,  he  had  always 
found  his  balance  on  the  wrong  side,  when  he  came  to 
square  up  his  accounts.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  when 
his  people  had  been  so  glaringly  inefficient  that  he  felt 
really  ashamed  of  sufiering  them  to  exhibit  their  lack  of 


244  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

talent  before  an  enlightened  public,  tlie  said  public  had 
willingly  paid  their  spare  cash  to  see  them  ;  and  while 
yielding  him  a  good  profit,  expressed  no  dissatisfaction  at 
the  worthlessness  of  the  rejDast. 

A  critic  who  flourished  in  Xew  York  in  1832,  gives  a 
quaint  description  of  that  classic  temj^le  of  the  drama,  the 
Park  Theatre,  in  these  words : 

"  The  Park  Theatre  has  long  been  the  admiration  of 
every  one  who  has  never  seen  any  other,  and  has  invaria- 
bly met  the  warm  approbation  of  those  who  understand 
not  a  word  about  the  matter.  The  beauty  of  the  outside 
is  a  matter  of  serious  astonishment,  consisting  of  the 
best  quality  of  colored  plaster,  variegated  by  straight  lines, 
which  are  ingeniously  intended  to  imitate  cracks.  In- 
deed, the  munificence  of  its  owners  has  spared  neither 
plaster  nor  brown  paint,  to  impart  to  it  a  sombre  cast ; 
and  anxious  for  improvement,  they  have  changed  it  from 
its  former  color,  which  was  yellow,  here  and  there  black- 
ened with  smoke,  to  one  of  becoming  and  unvaried 
brown."     Again, 

"  The  scenery  of  this  astonishing  exhibition  is  admira- 
ble in  the  extreme.  The  same  street  answers  for  New 
York,  London,  Paris  or  Madrid,  the  most  distant  part  of 
Russia,  or  ancient  Greece.  I  was  much  edified  by  a  ban- 
quet scene,  where  Selim,  in  the  "Bride  of  Abydos,"  fires 
his  two  pistols,  each  of  which  killed  his  man.  The  scene 
changed,  but  as  one  of  the  bodies  in  the  agonies  of  death 
had  fallen  too  far  out,  it  was  knocked  against  by  the  half 
of  a  handsome  palace,  which  was  just  then  making  its 
appearance.  The  poor  dead  man,  seeing  no  one  near  to 
take  him  away,  concluded  he  had  best  do  it  himself,  and 
actually  jumped  up  with  great  agility,  and  scrambled  out 
on  all  fours,  upon  which  the  audience  were  manifestly  de- 
lighted, and  gave  him  three  rounds  of  applause,  accom- 
panied with  many  gratified  smiles,  in  token  of  their  pleas- 
ure at  his  unexpected  recovery." 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  245 

I  was  also  assured  by  the  late  Mr.  Wallack,  that  dur- 
ing one  of  his  performances  of  "  Coriolanus  "  at  the  same 
establishment,  one  of  the  principal  scenes  of  the  tragedy 
was  the  same  as  exhibited  in  the  afterpiece  of  "  Aldgate 
Pump." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

This  was  a  venture,  Sir 

Merchant  of  Venice.     Act  1.     Scene  3. 

LOTTERIES. 

Games  of  chance  have  an  apt  connection  with  dramatic 
life,  as  those  who  have  speculated  in  the  venture  of  suc- 
cess, and  come  out  of  it,  losers  both  in  pocket  and  spirit, 
can  painfully  testify.  Accident  often  yields  the  sinews 
of  popularity,  when  years  of  toil  and  perseverance  never 
would  have  reached  the  coveted  goal.  The  great  sensa- 
tion achieved  by  Tyrone  Power  in  the  compulsory  rep- 
resentation of  an  Irish  character,  which  led  to  fame  and 
fortune,  exemplifies  this  fact. 

If  I  felt  disposed  to  be  personal,  which  I  mean  careful- 
ly to  avoid,  I  might  point  to  numerous  instances  where 
members  of  the  sock  and  buskin  have,  and  do  expend 
lai'ge  sums  upon  the  several  lottery  institutions,  in  the 
hope  of  achieving  a  fortune  for  the  trifling  investment  of 
a  few  dollars. 

I  beg  to  assert,  that  I  am  not  one  of  these,  nor  have  I 
ever  supposed  that  the  most  ingenious  astrologer  could, 
in  contemplating  the  date  of  my  nativity,  deduce  a  horo- 
scope that  should  elevate  me  to  the  dignity  of  wealth,  out 
of  the  regular  course  of  daily  and  nightly  labor. 

Lotteries,  although  abolished  in  the  Northern  states, 
are  still  an  institution  of  the  South;  and  it  was  during 
the  season  of  1856,  while  fulfilling  an  engagement  at  the 
Gaiety  Theatre,  New  Orleans,  that  I  made  the  casual 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  247 

acquaintance  of  one  of  these  corporations,  with  the  most 
gratifying  result. 

In  the  house  where  I  resided,  lived  an  English  gentle- 
man named  Barnet,  who  had  on  divers  occasions  been 
the  fortunate  winner  of  small  amounts,  just  sufficient  to 
whet  the  appetite  for  a  bolder  venture.  Vainly  he  en- 
deavored to  persuade  the  several  occupants  of  the  house 
to  join  him  in  investments  of  large  bundles  of  coupons, 
but  they  had  carefully  registered  a  debtor  and  credit  ac- 
count of  his  transactions,  and  finding  him  with  only  his 
labor  for  his  pains  at  the  end  of  every  year,  felt  no  de- 
sire to  speculate,  I  was  "like  manna  in  the  wilderness" 
to  him,  and,  although  I  never  indulged  a  hope  of  any 
favorable  result,  because  I  looked  back  to  the  period  of 
my  pilgrimage  when  I  affixed  my  signature  to  raffles  for 
sets  of  crockery,  and  other  fragile  articles  for  domestic 
use  ;  which  had  to  be  —  when  won  —  presented  to  some 
stationery  householder,  because  unadapted  for  purposes 
of  locomotion,  I  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  much  to  the 
amusement  of  the  malcontents  under  the  same  roof. 

The  sum  of  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  was  deposited 
in  his  keeping,  as  the  half  of  a  sinking  fund,  with  which 
we  had  a  fiendish  desire  to  impoverish  the  state  of 
Georgia ;  and  vouchers  for  the  amount  in  mysterious  nu- 
merals, duly  exchanged. 

When  the  drawing  came  in,  I  had  won  five  dollars,  be- 
ing in  possession  of  the  concluding  number  of  the  capital 
prize.  My  friend  needed  no  further  confirmation  to  con- 
vince him  that  this  was  an  omen  of  certain  success  at  any- 
subsequent  investment,  and  retained  the  above  sum  for 
the  purchase  of  tickets  in  the  Havana  lottery.  When 
the  result  of  this  distribution  became  known,  I  held  a 
ticket  within  three  numbers  of  the  largest  prize  of  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars. 

Barnet  was  in  ecstacies  at  the  prospect,  but  I  couldn't 


248  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

see  any  fbresliaclowingof  success,  though  I  readily  assent- 
ed to  a  further  risk  of  Jive  dollars  in  the  Maryland  lottery, 
drawn  at  Baltimoi-e,  December  20,  1856.  I  placed  the 
tickets  in  my  writing  desk  dismissing  the  subject,  in  the 
hurry  of  business,  entirely  fi'om  my  thoughts.  It  is  no 
wonder  that  I  felt  a  sense  of  uneasiness,  when  on  going 
to  the  theatre  one  fine  morning  early  in  the  month  of 
January  1857,  the  door-keeper  informed  me  that  a  gentle- 
man, in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  had  been  seeking  me, 
and  without  leaving  his  name,  hurried  away,  j^romising 
to  call  again. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  scene  wherein  Matty  Marvel- 
lous expatiates  upon  the  luxury  of  a  romantic  disposition, 
I  was  ajDprised  of  my  friend's  re-appearance,  and  at  the 
first  convenient  moment  repaired  to  the  stage  door, 
where  I  found  Barnet  in  a  great  persi^iration,  and  chew- 
ing tobacco  in  the  most  reckless  manner.  No  sooner 
did  he  get  sight  of  me  than  he  roared  at  the  extremity 
of  his  ability, 

"  We've  got  'em  this  time." 

"  Got  who  ?  "  mildly  enquired  I. 

"  17,108, 1  tell  you,"  returned  he. 

"  Well,  what  of  that,"  urged  I. 

"  Capital  prize,"  he  gasped  out. 

"  Whose  capital  prize  ?  "  I  desired  to  know. 

My  apathy  about  what  at  the  moment  I  did  not  really 
comprehend,  having  entirely  forgotten  the  Baltimore 
tickets  locked  in  my  desk,  evidently  disgusted  him,  and 
he  walked  away  a  few  paces  to  recover  himself. 

Dislodging  the  fragrant  weed  from  one  side  of  his 
mouth,  only  to  place  it  in  the  other,  he  returned,  took 
me  by  the  arm,  and  walked  nearly  a  block  in  silence. 
While  I  was  cogitating  upon  the  possibility  of  some  com- 
mercial eruption  having  unbalanced  his  mind,  he  return- 
ed to  the  charge,  thus  : 


rooTLranx  flashes.  249 

«  Look  here  T>.,  you  do  not  seem  clearly  to  imderstand 
the  pleasing  motive  of  my  visit  to  the  theatre  just  now  ! 
It  was  to  acquaint  you  with  the  fact  that  the  Baltimore 
drawing  arrived  this  morning,  and  records  that  17,108  is 
the  capital  drawn  prize;  consequently,  as  we  each  hold  an 
eighth,  we  are  both  $5,000  richer  thereby.  Drawing  from 
his  pocket  a  printed  list  in  confirmation  of  his  assertion, 
he  stopped  in  an  entry  to  enable  us  to  read  it,  and  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  watch  the  effect  produced  thereby. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  deny  that  I  experienced  a  sensa- 
tion of  pleasure  as  the  truth  of  the  matter  became  more 
firmly  rooted  in  my  mind,  and  as  Barnet  stopped  every 
body  in  the  streets  whom  he  knew,  and  apprized  them 
of  our  good  fortune,  it  is  no  wonder  that  a  highly  colored 
account  (in  so  far  as  regards  the  amount)  appeared  in 
the  next  day's  journals. 

Had  the  distinguished  poet  who  bequeathed  to  the 
world  the  trite  proverb  that  "  The  study  of  mankind  is 
man,"  been  a  resident  of  the  western  continent,  he  would 
probably  have  seen  the  necessity  to  amend  his  conclusion, 
and  substitute  dollai's  for  man. 

Such,  certainly,  were  the  feelings  which  impressed  me,  as 
I  suddenly  found  I  was  of  so  much  commercial  consequence 
that  skillful  agents  applied  for  the  pleasure  of  negotiating 
the  payment  of  my  newly  acquired  independence.  Not 
alone  did  the  resident  artists  in  this  peculiar  and  some- 
what indefinite  occupation  solicit  the  pleasure  of  a  busi- 
ness transaction,  but  so  soon  as  the  account  reached  New 
York,  those  accomplished  traders  who  understand  so 
well  the  science  of  scattering  money  to  the  best  advantage, 
did  me  the  favor  to  suggest  investments  of  the  most 
eligible  character,  which,  had  I  availed  myself  of,  might 
ere  this  have  placed  me  upon  the  high  road  to  wealth ; 
at  the  same  time  it  is  more  than  probable  that  a  contrary 
issue  might  have  been  the  result  of  my  temerity. 
11* 


250  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  one  of  four  applications  I 
received,  having  one  of  these  ends  in  view.  It  is  a  fair 
sahiple  of  the  proposals;  and  this  is  the  first  opportunity 
I  have  had  of  offering  my  thanks  to  the  Secretary  of  one 
of  the  firms  who  most  liberally  warned  me  of  the  instabili- 
ty of  a  neighboring  concern ;  and  presented  such  a  glow- 
ing description  of  the  financial  condition  of  the  house  in 
whose  interest  he  was  employed. 

{Copy:) 

Wall  Street,  New  York, 

January,  22,  1857. 
"William  Davidge,  Esq. 

Dear  Sir,  —  We  beg  to  direct  your  attention  to  a  most 

eligible   investment  in  the Mining  Association,  by 

which  very  large  profits  can  readily  be  made. 

We  enclose  prospectus,  and  shall  feel  great  pleasure  in 
placing  a  limited  number  of  shares  at  your  disposal. 

An  early  reply  will  be  desirable,  in  order  to  make  an 
equitable  distribution  of  the  few  shares  remaining  undis- 
posed of. 

We  are,  Dear  Sir, 

Your  obedient  Servants. 

&Qo. 

My  friend  Barnet  made  a  purchase  of  some  Louisiana 
State  stock.  The  last  I  heard  of  him,  his  investment 
was  down  to  thirty  cents  upon  the  dollar.  The  present 
condition  of  that  section  of  the  country  would  seem  to 
justify  the  conviction  that  the  principal,  along  with  the 
interest,  is  now  lost  to  him,  and  his  heirs,  forever. 

The  following  summer  I  was  at  Laura  Keene's  Theatre 
playing  an  engagement,  and  was  waited  on  by  a  gentle- 
manly looking  young  man,  who  said  he  had  business  of 
some  importance  with  me.     I  requested  him  to  wait  a  few 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  251 

moments,  and,  as  soon  as  I  had  finished  rehearsal,  joined 
him  at  the  stage  door;  and  while  walking  to  and  fro  at 
the  back  of  the  building,  the  following  colloquy  took 
place. 

Stranger.  I  believe,  Mr.  Davidge,  you  are  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  lottery  business  ? 

Davidge.  There  you  are  in  error,  Sir.  I  know  noth- 
ing at  all  about  it ! 

Stranger.  Indeed,  you  surprise  nie,  I  thought  you  bad 
won  a  large  prize  in  Xew  Orleans,  last  winter. 

Davidge.  True,  Sir,  but  I  know  nothing  of  the  mat- 
ter, save  that,  by  accident,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  I  became 
the  winner  of  five  thousand  dollars.  May  I  beg  to  be 
put  at  once  in  possession  of  the  object  you  have  in  mak- 
ing the  enquiry. 

Stranger.  Certainly  !  As  you  have  been  in  the  habit  ot 
playing  at  lotteries  — 

Davidge.  Excuse  me  !  I  have  not  been  in  the  habit 
of  doing  anything  of  the  kind.  I  was  a  winner,  as  I  told 
you  ;  but  since  that  time,  have  never  invested  one  dollar  in 
any  similar  venture. 

Stranger.  (Evidently  disappointed.)  Well,  I  have 
a  proposal  to  make,  by  which  each  of  us  might  possibly 
realize  something  handsome. 

Davidge.    Indeed !  what  is  it  ? 

Stranger.  I  am  an  agent  for  the  sale  of  tickets.  I 
have  had  a  place  in  Bleecker  St.  for  several  years,  and  all 
I  have  ever  got,  has  been  simply  a  slight  commission  on 
the  sale  of  the  prizes  that  I  might  happen  to  sell.  The 
Mayor  seems  determined  to  stop  us,  and  before  I  give  up 
I  should  like  to  make  a  few  hundred  dollars  for  all  the 
trouble  I  have  had. 

Davidge.  By  all  means,  but  in  what  Avay  could  I  aid 
in  so  desirable  a  result  ?  " 

Strayiger.    Why,  I  have  a  friend  in  Delaware,  who  un- 


252  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

derstands  how  to  communicate  with  me  in  secret  signs ; 
I  have  also  a  friend  in  the  operating  room  at  the  telegraph 
office  here,  and  the  three  of  us  perfectly  understand  one 
another.  I  have  to  deposit  the  unsold  tickets  in  a  sealed 
envelope  at  12  o'clock  each  day  of  the  drawing.  Now, 
there  is  a  difference  of  nearly  fifteen  minutes  in  the  clocks 
at  the  two  places.  My  friend  at  the  other  end  of  the 
line  would  transmit  (as  I  have  explained,)  the  lucky 
number  to  my  other  friend  here,  who  will  meet  me  on  my 
way  down  Broadway,  and  by  a  preconcerted  signal  ap- 
prize me  of  the  result.  I  retain  the  numbers,  if  not  al- 
ready sold,  and  still  reach  the  office  time  enough  to  lodge 
the  package,  and  the  same  night  could  bring  you  the  for- 
tunate ticket,  which  you  coidd  regularly  present  on  the 
following  morning,  and  deducting  a  small  percentage 
for  my  friend's  trouble,  we  could  share  the  consequences. 

Davidge.  Yes,  it  strikes  me  that  the  consequences  might 
be  rather  unpleasant  than  otherwise !  Be  good  enough 
to  tell  me  why,  if  you  have  arranged  this  combination  in 
such  a  masterly  way,  you  don't  complete  it  so  as  to  keep 
it  entirely  amongst  your  personal  friends  and  acquaint- 
ance ;  why  confer  the  favor  upon  an  outsider,  and  more 
than  that,  why  select  me  as  the  chosen  one  ? 

Stranger.  Why,  if  I  were  to  try  any  one  I  knew,  it 
might  arouse  suspicion  ;  and  further,  knowing  how  the 
thing  was  arranged,  they  might  refuse  to  give  me  my 
share,  and  I  should  be  compelled  to  bear  it  in  silence. 

I  left  him  with  the  assurance  that  he  was  in  error  in 
making  me  the  recipient  of  his  very  ingenious  device  ;  and 
suggesting  that  he  possibly  took  an  illiberal  estimate  of 
the  character  and  probity  of  his  acquaintance  who,  what- 
ever their  natural  failings  might  be,  could  scarcely  resist 
doing  justice  to  the  great  master  mind  that  had  begotten 
such  a  method  of  recruiting  an  exhausted  exchequer. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  253 


DEFEAT    OP  THE    AMERICANS,  AT  THE    MIMIC    BATTLE  OF 
MONTEREY. 

Soon  after  the  success  of  American  arms  in  Mexico,  a 
drama  was  produced  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  entitled  the 
"  Battle  of  Monterey." 

The  master  of  the  supers  was  in  the  habit  of  engaging 
for  Mexican  soldiers  gentlemen  of  the  Hebrew  persuasion, 
from  the  neighborhood  of  Chatham  Street,  to  Avhom  he 
paid  fifty  cents  per  night  for  their  services ;  while  those  who 
pei'sonated  the  Americans,  were  more  easily  obtainable 
from  the  ordinary  supers  attached  to  the  theatre,  and  who 
only  received  twenty-five  cents  for  a  similar  service  in 
their  nation's  cause,  being  well  satisfied  with  the  honor  of 
victory. 

On  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  Jews,  the  usual  soldiers  were 
not  to  be  relied  on  for  punctual  attendance,  consequently 
some  Americans  had  to  be  enlisted  for  the  night. 

The  opportunity  for  a  joke  was  too  good  to  be  lost,  and 
the  new  recruits  availed  themselves  of  it,  by  refusing  to 
be  beaten,  or  surrender,  but  gave  their  opponents  a  sound 
drubbing,  tore  their  flag  from  them,  and  scattered  them 
in  every  direction,  much  to  their  astonishment,  and  the 
enjoyment  oi  the  friends  who  had  been  apprised  of  the 
intention,  and  who  witnessed  the  scene  from  amongst  the 
audience,  with  much  gratification. 

THE    WESTERN   ENTHUSIAST. 

The  members  of  any  profession  or  calling  must  at  all 
times  be  flattered  by  a  favorable  recognition  of  his  pow- 
ers, regardless  of  the  terms  employed  for  the  utterance  of 
the  eulogium. 

The  familiarity  of  the  genuine  Western  traveller  has 
long  been  a  matter  of  notoriety  to  those  who  have  visited 
that  extensive  section  of  the  country. 


254  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

In  1856, 1  acted  twelve  nights  at  the  theatre  in  Louis- 
ville, Ky.  The  commencement  of  the  engagement  prom 
ised  a  profitable  and  satisfactory  termination  to  my  visit, 
and  in  anticipation  of  pecuniary  delight  I  was  inhaling 
the  aroma  of  a  mild  Havana  at  the  door  of  my  hotel,  when 
I  was  accosted  by  a  good  looking  specimen  of  the  West- 
ern hnntei',  with  a  desire  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the 
present  state  of  my  health,  in  the  not  very  original  ex- 
pression of, 

"  How  are  you  ?  " 

Adopting  the  usual  method  of  meeting  one  question 
with  another,  I  rejoined,^ 

"  How  are  you  ?  " 

This  seemed  to  satisfy  him  conclusively,  and  drawing  a 
chair  beside  me,  and  arming  himself  with  a  formidable 
quid  of  tobacco,  he  commenced  the  attack. 

"  I  seed  you  last  night !  " 

"  Indeed,  did  you?   Hope  you  were  pleased,"  replied  I. 

"  Pleased  !  well,  I  guess  I  war !  —  Say,  do  you  remem- 
ber Kirby?" 

«  Perfectly,"  said  I. 

"  He  were  a  rouser,  he  were !    I  sold  him  a  dog  once ! '' 

"Indeed!" 

Before  I  had  time  to  reflect  upon  the  singular  circum- 
stance of  my  friend's  disposal  of  one  of  the  canine  race  to 
the  once  popular  actor,  my  informant  placed  me  in  pos- 
session of  the  numerous  points  of  excellence  for  which 
the  animal  was  distinguished ;  with  the  method  he  had 
employed  for  his  instruction  from  his  infancy  till  he 
reached  the  proud  altitude  of  dog's  estate  ;  together  with 
the  exact  amount  of  money  expended  in  the  purchase. 

I  had  a  desire  to  contribute  to  the  enjoyment  of  this 
accidental  encounter,  and  began  to  take  a  retrospection  of 
my  past  history,  in  order  to  furnish  a  parallel  to  the  event 
just  recorded,  but  nothing  of  similar  importance  recur- 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  255 

ring  at  the  moment,  I  (as  a  subterfuge,  I  admit)  souglit 
information  in  regard  to  the  statistical  history  of  the  city, 
I^ast  and  present,  without  elicting  much  knowledge  on  the 
subject.  I  had  evidently  not  sounded  the  key  note  of 
my  friend's  specialty,  and  while  I  was  beating  about  for 
a  congenial  theme,  was  desired  by  him  to  adjudicate  be- 
tween the  relative  merits  of  two  prominent  members  of 
my  profession. 

There  was  little  time  to  evade  the  enquiry,  for  my  com- 
panion w'ent  into  a  glowing  panegyric  of  his  favorites  in 
dramatic  art,  giving  no  quarter  to  those  who  were  not  so 
fortunate  as  to  hold  a  j^lace  in  his  esteem,  till  he  signified 
his  positive  intention  of  quitting  his  present  mode  of  life, 
and  at  once  assuming  the  dignity  of  tragic  grandeur. 

"  Now  look  here  !  "  be  began.  "  How  long  would  it 
take  to  learn  your  trade  ?  " 

I  assured  him  that  that  would  depend  entirely  upon 
the  aptitude  of  the  student.  For  myself,  I  had  been  more 
than  twenty  years  in  harness,  and  I  was  frequently  re- 
minded in  my  own  estimate,  of  glaring  inefficiency  in 
many  things.  Further,  —  talent  did  not  at  all  times  com- 
mand success,  or  ensure  position  and  profit.  Those  Avho 
labored  under  the  impression  that  acting  Avas  simply  a 
trade,  confounded  the  art  itself  with  the  practice  of  it. 

Though  I  was  willing  to  admit  the  oft  quoted  axiom 
that  "  the  test  of  genius  was  success,"  in  its  pecuniary 
sio-nification,  I  had  in  numerous  instances  witnessed  tal- 
ent of  the  highest  order  languish  and  decay,  from  lack  of 
encouragement,  while  those  who  were  not  encumbered 
with  more  than  a  certain  modicum  of  business  tact,  or  the 
privileges  of  their  sex  (if  of  the  female  gender,)  have 
soon  distanced  their  accomplished  cotemporarie^. 

My  friend  readily  acquiesced  in  this  conclusion,  and  as 
an  earnest  of  his  foith,  announced  his  determination  to 
devote  the  balance  of  his  days  to  the  best  interests  of  the 
trao-ic  drama,  as  he  felt  conscious  of  a  brilliant  success. 


256  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

"  I'm  a  great  hand  at  learning  anything,  said  he,"  I've 
seen  a  great  deal  of  acting  in  all  the  Western  cities.  And 
though  I  don't  believe  I  could,  at  first,  come  the  Mac- 
beths  ;  FU  bet  any  man  five  thousand  dollars  I  could  run 
the  Macduffs  dean  up  to  the  handled 

I  never  saw  him  after  the  expression  of  this  threat, 
therefore  am  not  aware  if  he  perpeti'ated  his  design. 
Neith.er  has  any  information  reached  me  that  the  con- 
queror of  the  Scottish  monarch  has  ever  been  placed  in 
the  unenviable  position  above  referred  to. 

A   COlSrVIVIAL   AUDIENCE. 

Columbus,  in  the  state  of  Ohio,  is  not  distinguished  for 
its  profuse  patronage  of  the  drama  even  at  the  present 
time,  when  they  are  in  possession  of  an  extremely  elegant 
and  convenient  theatre.  Years  ago,  before  the  building 
was  in  existence,  attempts  were  periodically  made  to  cre- 
ate a  taste,  but  seldom  with  much  pecuniary  success. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  doubtful  investments,  that 
tlie  following  unusual  scene  occurred. 

The  play  commenced  to  a  very  limited  number  of  pat- 
rons, and  proceeded  with  that  dull  aspect  of  solemnity 
which  always  characterizes  a  scanty  attendance,  till  it 
came  to  the  second  scene  in  the  second  act,  when  Mr.  Par- 
ker the  manager,  who  acted  one  of  the  principal  parts,  ad- 
vanced to  the  footlights  and  addressed  his  patrons  in  the 
following  manner: 

"  Gentlemen  :  You  have  done  us  the  favor  to  assemble 
liere  to-night,  for  the  purpose  of  extending  your  patron- 
age to  the  exponents  of  an  intellectual  entertainment. 
We  feel  deeply  the  compliment  you  have  thus  generously 
designed,  and  individually  and  collectively  tender  you 
our  thanks.  That  you  have  not  been  more  extensively 
emulated  by  the  inhabitants  of  a  location  that  proudly 
rears  its  head  as  the  capital  of  a  thriving  and  intelligent 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  257 

state,  is  matter  more  for  pity  than  wonder.  Your  object 
is  to  seek  a  pleasing  combination  of  the  two  essential 
ingredients  of  our  nature,  for  without  a  blending  of  the 
intellectual  with  the  social,  so  imperatively  demanded  by 
our  physical  and  mental  organization,  how  dull  and  mo- 
notonous would  be  our  existence.  It  must  be  painfully 
evident  to  you  as  it  is  to  me,  that  Avith  the  present  influ- 
ences that  surround  you,  such  a  desirable  consummation 
is  totally  impossible.  The  important,  not  to  say  educa- 
tional mission,  with  which  we  are  charged,  cannot  be 
faithfully  disposed  to  such  a  limited  number  of  recipients. 
Desirous  as  I  am  to  add  to  the  amusement  of  my  fellow 
man,  particularly  under  the  pressure  of  unforeseen  disaster 
like  the  present,  and  to  curtail  as  much  as  possible  the 
monotony  of  the  time,  I  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  bring- 
ing this  very  uncongenial  meeting  to  a  close,  and  invite 
you  all  into  the  saloon  next  door  to  "  Take  a  drink  ; "  and 
they  did  it. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  I  will  persevere  in  my  course  of  loyalty." 

King  Lear.     Act  3.     Scene  5. 

THE    LOYAL    MARINE. 

Many  amusing  incidents  are  recorded  wherein  persons 
on  the  stage  have  positively  refused  to  utter  sentiments, 
or  perform  acts  contraiy  to  their  feelings.  I  have  heard 
a  leader  of  an  orchestra  declare  that  he  would  not  occupy 
his  seat,  if  expressions  were  uttered  reflecting  upon  the 
honor  of  his  native  land. 

Some  years  ago  the  late  Mr.  Burton  produced  the 
"Battle  of  Waterloo,"  at  the  Arch  Street  Theatre,  Phila- 
delphia, at  considerable  expense,  but  was  at  his  wits'  end 
to  find  efiicient  men  for  soldiers,  for  the  several  engage- 
ments with  which  the  piece  abounds.  Chance  made  him 
acquainted  with  the  captain  of  an  English  man-of-war, 
whose  vessel  was  then  lying  in  the  river,  who  politely 
offered  to  send  his  marines  to  the  theatre,  and  thus  re- 
lieve him  from  a  great  difficulty.  Rehearsal  came,  and 
the  piece  proceeded  with  satisfaction  till  the  last  act, 
where  an  incident  happened  in  the  dramatic  version 
which  gave  rise  to  this  story. 

The  scene  was  a  corn  field,  where  an  engagement  took 
place  between  the  French  and  English,  the  former  mak- 
ing breast  works  of  the  sheafs  of  corn,  and  after  a  pretty 
heavy  melee,  the  English  had  to  retreat  and  leave  the 
French  masters  of  the  field. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  259 

All  this  was  fully  and  clearly  explained  by  the  man- 
ager, who  superintended  the  rehearsal  in  person.  When, 
all  on  a  sudden,  one  of  the  crew  most  resolutely,  and  with 
powerful  saline  expressions,  refused  to  comply  with  the 
business  of  the  scene.  The  manager  expostulated  as  best 
he  could.  "My  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  "it  is  necessary  for 
the  business  of  the  scene,  that  it  should  be  so  arranged." 

"He  didn't  care  about  anybody's  arrangements,  but 
he'd  be  darned  if  he  was  going  to  retreat  before  any  in- 
fernal Frenchman."  The  manager  was  in  despair,  and 
a^ain  beQ:2:ed,  for  the  sake  of  the  performance,  that  the 
marine  would  waive  his  objection,  for  the  piece  couldn't 
be  done  without  it."  "  To  the  devil  with  the  piece,  then," 
said  he,  "  for  what  I  care,  for  never  shall  it  be  said,  that 
I  ever  beat  a  retreat  before  a  Frenchman." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  manager,  "I'm  very  sorry,  but 
your  services  are  really  of  no  use  to  me." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  marine,  "  heave  ahead,  boys,"  and 
proceeded  to  quit  the  theatre,  followed  by  his  crew,  when 
one  of  the  party  stepped  up  to  the  despairing  manager, 
and  assured  him  it  should  be  all  right  at  the  performance, 
and  that  he  would  appease  the  malcontent. 

"  Leave  him  to  me,  I'll  lead  the  way,  and  he  will  be 
sure  to  follow."  The  manager  permitted  the  incident  to 
pass,  hoping  for  the  best,  and  proceeded  to  the  conclusion 
of  the  rehearsal. 

In  the  evening  the  house  was  crowded,  and  all  moved 
safely  and  satisfactorily.  The  two  first  acts  terminated 
with  deafening  applause,  and  the  audience  were  enraptur- 
ed with  the  military  skill  exhibited  by  all  concerned. 

As  soon  as  the  third  act  commenced,  the  manager  re- 
paired to  his  room  to  dress  for  the  last  piece,  inwardly 
priding  himself  upon  the  great  managerial  skill  he  had 
displayed  in  the  production  of  a  piece  that  was  sure  to 
replenish    his    exhausted    treasury,  when  a  tremendous 


260  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

shout  of  laughter  intruded  itself  upon  his  ear,  and  his 
expressive  face  went  through  a  long  list  of  contortions  at 
the  supposition,  that  a  serious  scene  he  had  himself  pen- 
ned, in  order  to  give  time  for  a  heavy  set  by  the  carpenters, 
was  exciting  the  risibilities  of  the  audience,  when  he  had 
designed  it  for  a  contrary  result. 

He  stood  aghast,  with  a  portion  of  his  wardrobe  in  his 
grasp,  as  the  prompter  burst  into  the  apartment,  livid  with 
fear  and  dread.  Seizing  his  important  officer  by  the 
throat,  the  manager  desired  to  know  the  meaning  of  the 
disturbance. 

"  Oh,  sir,  pray  come,  that  marine  ! " 

"  What  of  him  ?  "  screamed  the  lessee. 

"Oh!  sir,  he'll  murder  somebody." 

Pushing  his  way  towards  the  stage,  the  first  thing 
that  met  his  astonished  gaze,  was  the  malcontent  of  the 
morning,  beating  about  him  right  and  left  with  the  butt- 
end  of  his  musket,  upsetting  the  miniature  breast-works, 
and  as  an  incentive  to  the  act,  singing  "Eule  Britannia  " 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  totally  regardless  of  the  efforts  of 
his  companions  to  subdue  him,  or  the  bursts  of  laughter 
from  the  audience 

The  above  is  but  a  slight  illustration  of  the  various 
mishaps  which  sometimes  occur,  either  from  ignorance  or 
design,  upon  the  stage.  While  writing,  I  am  reminded 
that  one  evening  during  the  performance  of  the  Octoi'oon 
at  the  Winter  Garden,  a  child,  who  represents  a  negro, 
during  a  serious  scene  deliberately  dismantled  itself  of 
its  woolly  hair,  for  the  purpose  of  scratching  its  head. 
The  audience  laughed  immoderately ;  at  which  the  child, 
quite  unused  to  the  stage,  grinned  in  recognition,  and 
made  a  low  bow  for  the  supposed  compliment. 


FOOTETGHT  FLASHES.  261 

BEADING  A  PART  ON  THE  STAGE. 

The  task  of  reading  a  part  on  the  stage  iu  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  give  it  the  tone  consistent  with  its  character,  is 
a  difficulty  very  few  actors  have  been  able  to  surmount. 
To  one  at  all  practised  in  the  profession  it  is  much  easier 
to  improvise  the  dialogue  necessary  to  conduct  the  plot, 
than  have  recourse  to  the  book. 

During  one  of  Mr.  Barney  Williams'  successful  engage- 
ments at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  a  piece  called  "  Crossing 
the  Atlantic  "  was  produced,  in  which  he  enacted  an  Irish 
peasant,  who  took  passage  from  Liverpool  for  New  York^ 
in  search  of  his  sister.  The  second  or  third  day  after  it 
was  first  acted,  Mr.  Williams  was  taken  so  seriously  ill, 
that  his  appearance  before  the  public  was  an  efibrt  im- 
possible to  accomplish.  It  was  on  the  fourth  of  July,  I 
was  quietly  attempting  to  keep  as  cool  as  convenient,  when 
the  messenger  arrived  with  a  request  that  I  would  be  on 
hand  at  the  theatre  in  the  evening,  in  order  to  assist  as 
well  as  I  could  in  the  dilemma.  When  I  reached  the 
Broadway,  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  prior  to  the 
opening  of  the  doors,  I  was  solicited  by  the  manager  to 
read  the  part  assigned  to  Mr.  Williams. 

I  declined  to  do  so,  but  offered,  if  they  would  furnish 
m£  with  the  following  items,  I  would  go  on  the  stage  and 
say  something  to  the  purpose,  viz :  The  name  of  the 
character.  Where  he  came  from,  and  what  his  object 
was  in  coming  to  New  York.  The  name  of  the  sister  he 
was  in  search  of;  and.  If  he  spoke  the  tag  of  the  piece, 
what  was  the  purport  of  it'? 

With  these  materials  I  managed  to  get  through  Avith 
apparent  satisfaction,  and  without  serious  annoyance  to 
those  concerned  with  me. 

Not  so  when  Mr.  Goulson,  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  had 
to  read  a  paper  in  which  the  name   of  "  Claude  Frolia," 


262  rOOTLIGHT    FLASHES. 

occurred.  The  stage  carpenter,  in  order  to  increase  the  di- 
lemma he  saw  Goulson  was  laboring  under  from  his  ina- 
bility to  dicipher  the  writing,  turned  down  the  gas  light 
at  the  wing  where  he  stood,  and  when  the  unfortunate  G. 
came  to  the  name,  he  called  it  "  Claude  Duval !  " 

Mr.  Stevens,  the  stage  manager,  whose  play  it  was, 
rushed  upon  him  as  soon  as  he  quitted  the  scene,  to  know 
what  he  could  mean  by  spoiling  the  piece  with  such  non- 
sense. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  said  Goulson. 

"  The  matter ! "  screamed  the  infuriated  managei'.  "  My 
hero  was  a  monk,  but  you  have  made  him  a  thief! " 

"  Sorry  for  that,"  said  G.,  "  but  I  couldn't  see  very  well,  I 
only  knew  of  two  Claude's  —  Claude  Melnotte,  and  Claude 
Duval.  I  felt  certain  it  wasn't  the  former,  and  therefore 
thought  it  must  be  the  latter." 

BAENET   WILLIAMS   AND    THE   INDIGNANT    PATLANDER. 

In  the  early  part  of  Barney's  career,  he  occasionally 
acted  at  the  Chatham  Theatre.  In  the  neighborhood  of 
where  his  mother  resided,  there  lived  a  lad  who  was  fre- 
quently employed  by  him  to  assist  in  placing  his  baggage 
on  board  when  he  left  the  city  for  provincial  engagements, 
but  who  had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  the  nature  of  his 
occupation. 

On  the  evening  he  was  to  commence  at  the  Chatham, 
Jemmy  was  entrusted  with  the  wardrobe  required,  and  was 
asked  "  if  he  would  like  to  see  the  play  ?  " 

"  To  do  which,  sir,"  said  Jemmy. 

"  To  see  the  play  ?  "  said  Barney. 

«  Faith,  I  would,  sir." 

"  Did  you  ever  go  to  the  play  ?  "  was  the  next  ques- 
tion. 

"  Faith,  I  never  did,  sir." 

"  Come  along,  then,"  said  Barney,  and  off  they  started 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  263 

for  Jemmy's  first  visit  to  the  theatre.  Entcnng  by  the 
usual  stage  door,  Jemmy  was  relieved  of  the  bundle  by 
Barney,  who  instructed  him  to  ensconce  himself  in  a  pri- 
Tate  box,  near  the  stage,  with  full  instructions  to  remain 
till  the  people  had  quitted  the  house,  and  he  would  join 
him. 

The  play  was  the  one  m  which  Ragged  Pat  appears. 
No  sooner  did  Barney  make  his  e7itre^  than  Jemmy  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  him  with  the  greatest  wonderment,  but 
without  the  slightest  scintillation  of  pleasure.  Barney  ob- 
served this,  and  mistook  it  for  tlie  natural  difiidence  of  his 
disposition,  but  concluded  he'd  have  him  when  he  danced 
his  celebrated  jig,  in  the  next  scene  ;  his  surprise  was  by 
no  means  lessened  when  this  act  made  him  more  stoical 
than  before.  The  song  will  not  fail  to  fetch  him,  mused 
Barney,  he  can't  resist  that,  I'm  sure.  Even  there  he  was 
mistaken !  not  a  muscle  of  his  face  moved,  but  still  kept 
its  blank  expression,  while  the  audience  were  apparently 
delighted,  and  signified  their  approval  by  a  rapturous 
encore. 

The  entertainment  over,  Jemmy  was  in  Avaiting,  in 
obedience  to  orders,  when  the  following  colloquy  took 
place. 

Barney.     Well,  Jemmy,  how  did  you  like  the  play  ? 

Jemmy.  Ah  !  well,  Mr.  Williams,  I'd  rather  you  didn't 
ax  me  now. 

Barney.    Why,  Jemmy? 

Jemmy.  Ah,  sure  now,  I'd  rather  be  excused,  that's 
what  I  would. 

Barney.     Nonsense,  I  should  like  to  have  your  opinion. 

Jemmy.     You'll  not  be  offended,  sir. 

Barney.     Offended,  not  a  bit  of  it ;  out  with  it. 

Jemmy.  Well  then,  since  you  insist  upon  it,  if  I  must 
tell  you  my  mind  ;  it  strikes  me  it  would  be  more  to  your 
credit,  if  you'd  be  imitating  the  dirty  Dutch,  than  making 
game  o'  the  Irish. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE    LAST    ONE. 


"  God'Od  you  for  your  last  company." 

Jls  you  like  it.     Act  3.     Scene  3. 

The  incidents  that  have  crossed  my  path  in  the  course 
of  a  long  and  laborious  servitude,  as  here  set  down,  are 
those  only  of  a  nature  that  could  be  likely  to  afford  amuse- 
ment to  the  general  reader. 

It  would  afford  me  more  pleasure  than  I  can  readily  ex- 
press if  I  could,  without  violating  the  sacred  precincts  of 
private  correspondence,  recount  the  numerous  instances 
of  social  gratification  I  have  derived  from  so  many  sources 
since  my  arrival  in  America. 

It  is  at  all  times  flattering  to  one  whose  pursuit  is  either 
of  a  literary,  or  inventive  character,  to  find  a  congen- 
iality with  his  mission,  and  a  due  sense  of  his  presumed 
usefulness. 

The  members  of  the  profession  to  which  I  belong,  have 
perhaps  a  better  opportunity  of  judging  the  various  and 
distinct  idosyncracies  of  society  at  large,  than  those  whose 
pursuits  are  of  a  less  observant  necessity.  Accustomed  to 
the  close  study  of  peculiarities  of  our  fellow-men,  we  are 
ever  ready  to  detect  the  counterfeit  from  the  genuine,  bur- 
nish it  howso'er  they  may. 

It  is  often  with  regret  that  we  find  that  faculty  intruding 
itself  upon  our  notice.  Still  a  large  proportion  of  our 
brethren  exist  entirely  in  a  world  of  their  own  creating ; 


FOOTLIGnT    FLASHES.  265 

Their  life  is  one  long,  round  of  rehearsal  in  the  morning, 
and  acting  in  the  evening.  Many  can  find  little  leisure 
for  mental  culture.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  during  a 
novitiate,  for  an  actor  to  study  and  act  in  the  space  of 
one  week  as  much  at  forty  lengths*  and  at  times  even 
more  than  that. 

It  is  recorded  of  Munden,  an  actor  of  great  ability,  and 
the  original  old  Dornton  in  the  "Road  to  Rain,"  that  on 
Dibdin,  the  author,  explaining  to  him  the  nature  of  the 
part  of  Dozey  in  "  Past  Ten  O'Clock,"  and  referring  him  to 
the  then  highly  popular  novel  of  Tom  Jones,  for  the 
counterpart  of  the  old  watchman  ;  he  admitted  he  had 
never  read  it,  and  further,  that  he  couldn't  find  time  to 
peruse  anytliing  save  a  play  book,  and  then  only  the  part 
he  was  called  upon  to  enact. 

The  struggles  and  privations  of  an  actor's  life  have  be- 
come a  matter  of  peculiar,  and  frequently  exaggerated 
history  !  The  bright  lights  of  their  characters  have  too 
often  been  most  sparingly  presented,  while  the  darker 
shades  with  which  ignorance  and  bigotry  delight  to  robe 
their  victims,  have  been  laid  on  with  a  vigor  of  color,  un- 
rivalled for  the  disposition  of  the  details,  and  unapproach- 
able for  the  profundity  of  its  imagination. 

It  is  only  just  that  a  proper  respect  and  regard  should 
bo  paid  to  the  dignity  of  labor,  yet  it  is  notorious  that 
while  a  large  portion  of  the  public  evince  a  profound  es- 
teem for  mechanical  excellence,  they  look  almost  with  an 
air  of  indifierence  on  artistic,  or  literary  superioity. 
This  aversion  is  more  strikingly  evident  where  the  mind 
is,  early  in  life,  impregnated  with  an  intense  desire  to  ac- 
quire afliuence,  to  the  utter  and  total  exclusion  of  that 
wealth  of  the  mind  which  is  the  key  stone  to  civilization 
and  advancement ;  and  it  may  be  matter  for  serious  re- 

*Forty  two  written  lines  constitute  a  length. 


266  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

flection,  whether  customs  of  traffic,  with  all  the  unavoida- 
ble misrepresentations  or  adroitly  concealed  facts  with 
which  commerce  is  always  surrounded,  do  not  harden  the 
sensibility  of  many  natures  which  never  can  be  overcome. 
It  would  be  an  uncongenial  task  to  trace  causes  to  effects, 
with  metaphysical  obduracy.  The  truth  forces  itself  upon 
the  notice  of  every  artistic  observer,  intruding  with  un- 
mistakable severity  into  the  domestic  precinct,  with  an 
arrogance  as  unjust  as  it  is  ungenerous.  Presuming  this 
position  to  be  accurately  sustained,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  the  public  is  at  fault  when  it  regards  literary  and  ar- 
tistic pursuits  other  than  an  indispensable  necessity  for  the 
perpetuation  of  human  greatness. 

A  review  of  the  lives  of  the  members  of  the  dramatic 
profession  will  exhibit  as  many  phases  of  excellence  as 
that  of  any  other  pursuit ;  while  their  infirmities  bear  no 
analogy  either  in  extent,  or  heinousness.  As  a  class  they 
are  charitable  to  profusion,  affectionate  sons,  and  loving 
daughters,  willing  to  aid  and  assist  at  all  times,  their 
fellow  laborers,  even  beyond  their  available,  or  consistent 
ability.  The  crime  of  thoughtlessness  and  improvidence 
may  with  truth  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  some  few ;  but  it 
is  a  matter  for  serious  reflection,  whether  these  failings 
cannot  be  more  readily  atoned  for  at  the  "  Great  Judg- 
ment Seat "  than  the  practice  of  selfishness,  or  the  arro- 
gance of  wealth,  with  which  many  of  their  most  strenu- 
ous enemies  delight  to  invest  themselves. 

A  pamphlet  entitled  "  The  Drama  Defended  "*  very 
extensively  noticed  by  the  press  of  America,  was  written 
by  me  in  1858,  with  a  desire  to  place  the  members  of  my 
profession  in  a  proper  and  equitable  position  with  the 
public. 

It  cannot  surely  be  urged  with  any  amount  of  justice 

• 

*Published  by  S.  French,  122  Nassau  Street,  N.  Y. 


FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  267 

that,  Avhile  the  clergy,  the  bar,  and  numerous  other  pro- 
fessions,—  the  first  named  most  particularly  —  are  amen- 
able only  as  individuals,  for  their  crimes  or  misdemeanors, 
that  the  children  of  Thespis  should,  from  the  dereliction 
of  any  of  their  brothers,  or  sisters,  have  their  entire  race 
tabooed  and  stigmatized  as  a  class  unworthy  to  share  or 
take  part  in  the  socialities  of  every  day  life. 

That  the  profession  of  the  stage  has  its  black  sheep,  no 
one  will  attempt  to  deny.  Where  is  the  flock  without 
these  despoilers  of  their  fair  fame  ?  Yet,  it  is  notorious, 
that  their  errors  are  but  venal  ones,  while  statistics  will  un- 
deniably prove  that  there  is  no  calling  extant,  taken  nu- 
merically, that  can  present  so  few  instances  of  offence 
against  law  and  order,  as  the  members  of  the  dramatic 
body  can  proudly  boast. 

It  is  sometimes  considered  that  the  only  tangible  ob- 
jection that  can  be  advanced  against  the  stage  is,  that 
the  suiTOundings  lead  to  a  mixture  of  the  sexes,  danger- 
ous to  morality,  and  fatal  to  the  interests  of  society  at  large. 
Yet,  with  a  singular  inconsistency,  as  it  appears  to  me, 
no  similar  charge  is  levelled  against  the  factory  system, 
Sunday  evening  services,  and  many  others  where  the 
sexes  mingle,  and  where  more  impropriety  is  constantly 
exhibited,  most  glaringly  evident  to  any  observer  who 
will  take  the  trouble  to  watch  the  retiring  crowds  from 
the  several  churches. 

Is  it  somewhat  paradoxical  that  such  a  sudden  and 
virulent  attack  of  theatre  preaching  should  have  broken 
out  a  year  or  two  since.  Reader,  what  doth  it  portend  ? 
Is  it  with  the  benign  intention  of  bearding  the  lion  in  his 
den,  or  is  it  with  the  hope  that  the  theatre,  being  accus- 
tomed to  receive  a  fixed  tariff,  the  devotionals  may  be 
induced  to  donate  the  usual  play-house  prices  rather  than 
satisfy  their  consciences  by  the  very  popular  three  or 
live  cent  offerings  ?    If  this  be  so,  it  proves  incontestably 


268  FOOTLIGIIT    FLASnES, 

that  the  love  of  dollars  burns  as  effulgent  in  the  heart  tliat 
beats  beneath  the  clerical  black,  as  under  the  commer- 
cial blue,  or  mechanical  grey. 

To  those  who  look  with  that  degree  of  charity  on  all 
classes  and  degrees  which  should  ever  distinguish  the 
liberal  mind,  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  adduce  a  speci- 
men of  bigotry,  and  supreme  ignorance,  almost  unjaaral- 
leled. 

It  is  an  opinion  proclaimed  from  the  pulpit  in  one  of 
the  churches  of  Kingstou-upon-Hull  in  the  year  1792, 
(verbatim  from  Wilkinson's  Wandering  Patentee)  a  very 
popular  manager  of  the  York  circuit,  where  many  of  the 
most  celebrated  actors  that  have  graced  the  London 
stage,  graduated  : 

"  No  player,  or  any  of  his  children  ought  to  be  entitled 
to  a  christian  burial,  or  even  to  be  in  a  church  yard !  Not 
one  of  them  can  be  saved.  And  those  who  enter  a  play- 
house are  equally  certain  Avith  the  players  of  eternal  dam- 
nation.    No  j^layer  can  be  an  honest  man." 

It  was  from  such  mouldy  and  absurd  trash  as  this,  that 
the  Romish  clergy  of  old  imbibed  their  presumptuous  au- 
dacity to  withhold  christian  burial  from  actors,  and  the 
Puritans  have  contended  for  the  extinction  of  the  most 
popular  and  humanizing  amusement,  (not  to  say  instruc- 
tion) extant. 

If  the  church  could  be  a  little  progressive,  it  would  at 
once  see  this  absurdity  to  be  quite  as  gi'eat  as  the  old 
Grecian  legislative  act,  familiar  to  most  of  us,  of  suppress- 
ing the  study  and  practice  of  physic,  with  the  declaration 
that  honor  and  life  ought  never  to  become  matter  of 
dispute.  Nearly  one  hundred  years  elapsed  before 
Aristrato,  who  was  a  nephew  to  Aristotle,  re-introduced 
the  medical  art  with  any  hope  of  a  favorable  reception. 

The  defects  of  the  stage  are  only   excrescences,  they 


FOOTLIGHT    FLASHES.  269 

disgrace  the  trunk,  but  cannot  vitiate  it.  It  has  sufficient 
strength  to  permit  the  eradication  of  all  and  everything 
that  is  objectionable  and  flourish  with  tenfold  vigor ! 
It  is  not  composed  of  the  deleterious  qualities  which 
bigotry,  fanaticism,  and  ignorance  would  endeavor  to 
persuade  the  world  it  is. 

The  charity  of  some  of  its  members  is  fully  established 
in  numerous  ways.  Among  the  most  prominent,  stands 
that  magnificent  structure  "  Dulwich  College  "  founded 
by  Edward  Alleyne,  where  the  indigent,  to  this  day, 
offer  up  their  prayers  to  heaven  for  the  comfort  and 
shelter  afforded  by  the  donation  of  a  profane  stage  play- 
er. 

AYhen  I  had  examined  its  several  apartments  and 
sauntered  into  the  trimly  arranged  garden  which  surrounds 
this  peaceful  dwelling  place,  my  thoughts  led  me  to  the 
substance  of  a  sermon  delivered  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Best  of 
Sheffield,  then  fresh  in  my  recollection,  in  which  the  actor 
was  unconditionally  despatched  to  perdition  for  his  sinful 
calling. 

A  very  old  man  came  hobbling  along,  but  newly  risen 
from  dinner.  I  watched  him  as  he  took  his  seat  beneath 
the  shade  of  a  large  elm  tree,  and  putting  on  his  glasses 
composed  himself  to  read  from  a  book  he  drew  from  his 
pocket.  After  a  few  moments  I  approached  and  address- 
ed him.  He  rose  immediately,  and  politely  offered  me 
his  seat,  which  I  declined.  As  delicately  as  possible  I 
drew  from  him  his  history.  It  was  the  usual  torrent  of  mis- 
fortune that  had  pressed  him  down  in  the  financial  scale, 
till,  with  advancing  years  upon  his  head,  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  avail  himself  of  the  institution  that  so  fitly  ad- 
ministered to  his  comfort. 

As  I  walked  away  with  the  words  of  the  divine  ringing 
in  my  ears,  I  cherished  a  love  for  good  deeds,  and  won- 


270  FOOTLIGIIT' FLASHES. 

dered  with  Othello,  whether,  "  There  were  no  stones  in 
Heaven,  but  what  serve  for  the  thunder." 

I  am  somewhat  prolix  upon  this  subject,  because  I  de- 
sire to  lend  my  poor  ability  to  aid  in  establishing  amongst 
the  liberal  minded,  a  feeling  of  generosity  towards  the 
profession  of  which  I  am  a  member.  In  doing  so  I  am 
influenced  by  no  vain  gloriousness,  or  idle  antagonism  to- 
wards the  really  devout  and  christian  churchman ;  con- 
ceiving as  I  do,  that  as  there  are  in  our  frail  natures 
"  weeds  of  every  soil  "  so  there  are  abundant  evidences 
of  meekness,  humility,  and  unerring  zeal  in  the  cause  of 
charity,  probity,  and  devotional  usefulness.  I  am  pleased  to 
be  enabled  to  record  the  pleasure  I  derive  from  two  good 
and  charitable  spirits  whom  I  frequently  meet  in  social 
harmony,  and  from  whom  I  always  part  with  a  feeling  of 
regret. 

I  expect  to  be  asked  why  I  make  these  pointed  alhi- 
sions  to  the  maligners  of  the  stage  in  this  place  ;  and  if  it 
be  necessary,  or  politic  so  to  do. 

In  reply  I  would  say,  that  so  long  as  I  have  been  in  a 
position  to  judge  of  the  merits  of  the  subject,  I  have 
never  shrunk  from  the  defence  of  my  craft  from  the  at- 
tacks of  the  cowardly  assailer.  The  many  occasions  I 
have  committed  my  thoughts  to  paper  on  this  theme,  both 
in  America,  and  England,  must  be  fresh  in  the  recollec- 
tion of  all  who  take  an  interest  in  the  subject. 

Forming,  as  these  controversies  have,  a  portion  of  my 
professional  history,  it  is  presumable  that  ray  readers 
should  expect  some  allusion  to  the  motives  that  have  led 
me  to  pursue  it,  with  a  dogged  perseverance  somewhat 
akin  to  the  earnestness  exhibited  by  the  opposing  parties. 
Thus  then  it  was. 

When  I  was  about  fifteen  years  old,  the  church  I  at- 
tended had  for  its  pastor  a  resolute  old  gentleman  of  an 


rOOTLIGHT   FLASHES.  271 

austere  visage,  and  a  pair  of  eagle  eyes  which  seemed  to 
strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  refractory  boys,  and  late  ar- 
rivals. It  was  his  wout  to  adapt,  with  the  most  ingenious 
so^ihistry,  any  incident  of  every-day  disaster  that  ha2:)pen- 
ed  to  turn  up,  and  so  interweave  it  with  his  text,  that  you 
found  yourself  corporeally,  as  well  as  spiritually  at  Rome, 
striving  to  catch  the  analogy  of  his  application  to  the 
eternal  city,  during  a  carnival  week,  and  the  burning  of  a 
ship-yard  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  where  two  men  had 
unfortunately  lost  their  lives. 

An  individual,  callous  to  the  science  of  natural  laws, 
had,  while  in  a  balloon,  conceived  the  notion  of  taking  a 
downward  trip  in  a  parachute,  and  killed  himself  in  the 
attempt.  This  was  a  splendid  chance  for  our  friend,  the 
parson,  who  made  the  best  of  it  on  the  following  Sunday, 
by  sending  his  congregation  home  with  the  assm-ance  that 
they  were  all  in  the  condition  of  the  man  in  the  para- 
chute. 

When  the  Brunswick  Theatre  in  Goodman's  Fields  fell, 
on  the  morning  of  the  23d  of  February,  1828,  while  the 
company  were  at  rehearsal,  he  saw  in  this  conclusive  evi- 
dence that- it  was  Heaven's  judgment  upon  a  number  of 
wretched  sinners,  whose  occupation  was  adverse  to  every 
form  of  Christianity ;  which  he  attempted  to  show  by  a 
reference  to  the  history  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  or  the 
parable  of  the  unjust  steward,  I  forget  which.  He  was  a 
good  solid  hater  of  amusements  of  any  and  every  kind. 
"  If  you  want  recreation,"  he  would  say,  "  you  shall  find  it 
in  pi-ayer.  If  you  desire  music,  you  can  enjoy  it  in  the  de- 
licious song  of  the  bird  —  Nature's  own  chorister."  I  have 
since  heard  a  gentleman  in  Brooklyn,  while  descanting 
upon  the  enormity  of  opera  amusement,  laud  the  brilliant 
execution  of  the  mosquito,  with  similar  enthusiasm. 

"  Do  you  need  intellectual  nourishment ;  listen  to  me 
three  times  on  Sundays,"  he  would  continue. 


27'i  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

About  this  time  I  conceived  a  notion  that,  in  order  to 
attain  to  the  summit  of  dramatic  art,  it  was  necessary  to 
acquire  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  science  of  elocution. 
I  have,  long  since,  made  the  discovery  that  no  person 
thus  trammelled  has  ever  reached  that  coveted  goal ;  for 
this  purpose  I  made  the  ■  acquaintance  of  an  actor  who 
lived  in  the  suburbs  of  London,  and  was  then  under  en- 
gagement at  one  of  the  minor  theatres  on  the  Surrey  side 
of  the  Thames.  He  was  a  jovial,  honest  hearted  fellow, 
teeming  with  anecdote  of  odd  incidents  connected  with 
his  professional  career,  and  with  a  wife  and  about  half  a 
score  of  children,  had  to  exercise  great  prudence  and 
economy  to  keep  the  domestic  machine  in  motion.  I 
watched  this  man's  habits  for  months.  I  scanned  every 
action  of  himself  and  family.  I  saw  with  sorrow  the 
struggle  of  a  generous,  noble  nature,  against  poverty  and 
prejudice.  A  pious  friend,  with  the  best  intention  for 
my  welfare,  had  furnished  us  with  Jeremy  Collier's  tirade 
against  the  stage  ;  the  'parson  at  our  church  had  been 
pounding  a  similar  doctrine  into  me,  from  his  pulpit, 
whenever  opportunity  served. 

Then  it  was  that  I  began  to  peer  into  the-  intent  and 
purport  of  these  defamers  ;  then  to  look  upon  those  more 
searchingly  who  bore  in  silence,  and  resignation,  with  the 
avenues  for  their  defence  barred  by  the  taint  of  prejudice 
the  stigma  that  ignorance  had  cast  upon  them.  Then 
to  compare  by  statistical  research  the  relative  proportion 
of  offences  committed  against  the  laws ;  and  the  result  — 
with  shame  belt  known  —  exhibits  a  terrible  record  of 
every  grade  of  sin  against  those  whose  text  should  be  in 
imitation  of  their  divine  master :  "  Peace,  charity,  and 
universal  love." 

It  is  no  disparagement  to  our  natures  to  assert  that  cu- 
riosity is  one  of  its  most  formidable,  and  distinctive  pe- 


FOOTLIGUT    FLASHES.  273 

culiavities !  and  there  is  no  class,  or  calling,  tliat  presents 
so  many  opportunities  wherewith  to  indulge,  or  gratify 
this  passion,  as  the  theatre  and  its  connections.  Impress- 
ed with  this  belief,  I  have  essayed  to  furnish  materials 
that,  it  is  hoped,  have  tended  to  appease  this  voracious 
desire ;  flavoring  the  meal  with  such  sprinklings  of  inci- 
dent and  anecdote  as  should  impart  to  it  an  agreeable 
zest,  and  relish. 

The  time  honored  supposition  that  has  for  ages  perva- 
ded the  minds  of  many  persons,  in  relation  to  the  birth, 
parentage,  and  education  of  the  children  of  Thespis,  as 
we  are  poetically  termed,  is  not  attempted  to  be  dispelled, 
for  the  reason  that,  to  destroy  or  strip  a  delusion  of  its 
mystery,  and  clothe  it  in  its  materiality,  would  only  em- 
barrass, but  could  scarcely  hope  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
a  class  who  delight  to  indulge  in  the  speculations  of  the 
theorist. 

The  vanity  of  placing  this  book  before  the^  public,  in 
an  autobiographical  shape,  was  suggested  by  a  friend  of 
literary  aptitude,  who,  in  his  zeal  for  my  w^elfare,  has  pro- 
bably inflicted  an  injury  upon  his  own  best  patrons ;  which 
years  of  unremitting  ability  may  not  enable  him  to  liqui- 
date. 

The  book,  such  as  it  is,  was  commenced  during  a  va- 
cation of  professional  labor ;  it  therefore  afibrded  me  the 
pleasure  of  being  in  sympathy,  as  it  were,  before  my 
numerous  friends,  the  iniblic  !  And  it  is  most  earnestly 
desired,  when  it  shall  be  placed  in  their  hands,  that  the 
affinity  of  the  delusion  may  not  be  dispelled. 

Opinions  of  the  merits  of  my  contemporaries  I  have 
most  carefully  avoided ;  in  like  manner  that  in  sketching 
the  peculiarities  of  my  professional  brethren  I  have  dealt 
in  generalities  rather  than  personalities,  which  I  with  sub- 
mission consider  only  conjures  a  resemblance  in  the  minds 


274  FOOTLIGHT   FLASHES. 

of  those  who  are  the  most  likely  to  feel  piqued  at  the 
portraiture. 

If  the  list  of  my  dramatic  friends  be  augmented  by  this 
evidence  of  my  desire  to  speak  on  their  behalf  it  will  af- 
ford similar  satisfaction  to  that  I  shall  experience,  if 
the  public  will  henceforth  on  the  stage  regard  me  with 
no  less  favor  for  this  very  small  addition  to  the  ranks  of 
literature. 


THE   END. 


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